


Legacy of the Shadows: Casualties of Darkness

by MajorLee



Series: Legacy of the Shadows [2]
Category: Crusade
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 10:43:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 53,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11251488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorLee/pseuds/MajorLee
Summary: Beginning moments after Captain Gideon is shot on Mars, the crew must now face an enemy more dangerous than even the Drakh...the dark forces within their own race.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct continuation of the unaired season one finale', "End of the Line". A synopsis of both that episode and the rest of a completed 20 episode first season have been posted under, Legacy of the Shadows: 2267. Although you'll probably be able to figure out what's going on through context, I strongly recommend you read through at least the unaired episodes listed there for a fuller grasp of what's going on.
> 
> This is the first in a planned series to carry Crusade into the future, filling in the large gap between it's final episode and The Lost Tales. There will also be talk concerning Legends of the Rangers material, since that show was to have overlapped Crusade within the timeline. Overall I'm going to try to take the very few glimpses JMS gave us of what would have been, and flesh them out into a saga more fitting of the B5 name. 
> 
> Just keep in mind, I'm no JMS, so take the effort for what it is. Feel free to message me or review publicly. Constructive criticism is always appreciated!

**December 31** **st** **, 2267**

**Unclaimed Planet K1024**

As Agent Sophie Reneau was being violently yanked off of the ground, she felt an emotion she'd long since thought she'd outgrown...sheer terror. Between her training, enhancements and the living nightmares she'd faced on her past missions, terror had become a distant memory. Until now.

The fact that whatever had grabbed her seemed to be effectively invisible certainly wasn't helping any. However she'd faced much stranger things then that on the Rim, this was something else entirely. It was almost primal, as if the force that was now dangling her twenty feet above the cave floor was triggering some evolutionary remnant overwhelming her ability to do anything but panic.

Trying to reason out what was causing her reaction allowed her to gain a modicum of control. At least it did for a few brief seconds before a puff of putrid air hit her face. The smell was so overpowering that her throat filled with bile. Swallowing it back down, Reneau refused to give in to her base instincts again. She’d almost succeeded when the next puff came…accompanied by a low snarl.

As her adrenaline kicked into overdrive, her implants sprang to life beneath her skin. Normally she could could control them, but nothing about this was normal. With her heart beating out of control, a slick obsidian oil oozed through her pores at an astonishing rate. In a matter of seconds the shimmering, black Skin covered her from head to toe. 

As it spread onto her jacket and out, it didn’t close up into a seamless armor like it was supposed to. The Skin kept right on going, extending outward from her body and over the ragged claw that belonged to whatever had grabbed her. And whatever it was, was not pleased. She felt the Skin snap tight around her as she was launched back toward the ground.

Unfortunately, whatever had yanked her straight up didn’t return her the same way. Had that been the case, she likely could have absorbed the impact, especially with the Skin now sealed up tight. Instead she was hurled back through the tunnel, sailing just over the heads of her teammates, though they had to duck to avoid being clipped. 

Their guide wasn’t so lucky.

She hit him hard enough to send the two of them into the wall with an audible crack. The impact had knocked the wind out of her, a condition she wished on her victim as he began to scream. Reneau did a quick mental inventory for injuries, but the Skin had done its job well. She might have a few bruises tomorrow, but not bad considering. From the sound of him, once again the Centauri's luck had failed him.

On the other hand, Lon Calvini wasn’t the bravest of Centauri on his best of days. He’d screamed every bit as loudly when a bat-like creature had flown ten feet over their heads earlier. So it was hard to say how much of his reaction was due to pain and how much was his natural cowardice. 

Any thoughts of gauging the true extent of his injuries was put out of her mind when two more screams echoed through the cavern around her. The first was from Hanson, now floating upside down, his feet brushing the top of the cave. The second she couldn’t identify, although it clearly wasn’t from their group. It was animalistic and if she was reading it correctly, very angry. 

But where the hell was it coming from?

The ancient texts Calvini had showed them claimed this place had been a sanctuary of the Shadows. A place where they could lay in wait for centuries, until the younger races filled the heavens once more. Then they’d return, culling the weak from the strong. Of the dozens, maybe even hundreds of worlds they’d used for this purpose over the millenia, most still remained hidden or had been picked clean by their servants. Obviously they’d missed something here.

Desperate for answers, she shifted the Skin over her eyes, allowing her to see in spectrums other than visible light. Still finding nothing, on a hunch she cloaked her eyes, using a more primitive form of the technology the Shadows used to become effectively invisible. Based on the stench, sounds and behaviors she’d just seen, she wasn’t overly shocked to see a living creature. But she definitely hadn’t expected a demon straight from the pits of hell.

At least that’s what it looked like to her. Standing twenty feet tall, the creature had two arms, two legs and a head atop its giant torso. And on either side of that head were protrusions that could only be described as horns. In one hand…or claw…it held Hanson over its head by his waist as he struggled in vain to get free.

Having dropped her rifle when it had grabbed her, Reneau pulled the Skin back from her hip just enough to get at her PPG. Taking aim at its head, she pulled the trigger again and again causing a rapid succession of plasma bolts to explode around it.

“What the hell are you doing?” yelled Jeger, staring at her as if she’d gone mad. “You’re gonna hit Bryce!”

“There’s some kind of Shadow creature!” she shouted back, emptying the energy cap into it. “Cloak your eyes and fire, dammit!”

Before her words could register, Hanson’s shouts turned into blood curdling screams. While her shots had all hit their target…something that big was hard to miss…they hadn’t done anything more than piss it off. With one claw still wrapped around Hanson’s waist, the other reached up and grabbed his chest. When the claw’s pointed tips punctured his jacket, Hanson’s screams turned into weak gurgles as blood filled his throat. With an ear splitting shriek, the beast yanked its arms outward, literally ripping Hanson in two.

As the blood sprayed across the cavern, the panicked squeals from behind her became more frantic as Calvini totally lost it. He grabbed her arm, desperate to get his hands on her PPG. If he’d been thinking, Calvini would have realized that leaving the weapons in the hands of someone who could see their attacker was the smart play. But any semblance of logical thought had left the Centauri’s brain when Hanson’s guts had painted the walls.

“Get off me you idiot,” she snapped, doggedly trying to continue her attack. 

Fortunately Jeger had finally cloaked his eyes and had begun laying into the creature with his rifle. Unfortunately, his plasma bolts had about the same effect as those from her PPG. It was becoming pretty damned clear they simply didn’t have enough fire power to make a dent in the thing.

The beast dropped Hanson’s severed legs and stormed toward her last remaining partner. To his credit Jeger didn’t stop firing even as the thing got within striking distance. Using the upper half of Hanson’s corpse as a club, the beast swung with all of its strength, smashing Jeger into the nearest wall. The impact knocked his gun away and before he could retrieve it, the beast grabbed Jeger by the leg and hurled him into the wall with a sickening thump.

Shock threatened to settle in as her eyes darted back and forth between what was left of Hanson and the crumpled body of Jeger. Maybe he was still alive, but he wasn’t moving. With a bellow of defiance, she threw her elbow back, hitting Calvini squarely in the face. Until he’d lost consciousness Reneau hadn’t realized how much the chaos in the cavern had been amplified by his incessant screaming. Even the beast had gone quiet now as it admired its handiwork.

Taking those precious few seconds to compose herself, she looked around for anything she might be able to use as a weapon. If she could get to one of the fallen rifles she may be able to cause a cave in on top of it, but that would likely bury her too. Given his love of explosions, it was a given that Hanson would have grenades in his pack, but again, that wasn't an option she'd likely survive. That left only one option.

Using Calvini’s limp form for support, she pushed herself up, relieved that her synthetic legs still worked. Steeling herself for one of those ideas Jeger always said were proof the Skin had leaked into her brain, she chucked her PPG as hard as she could at her invisible adversary.

“Over here, you big, dumb animal,” Reneau yelled at the top of her lungs.

It spun around, then just stared at her like she was nuts. Was this thing partially sentient or just a giant killing machine. Either way…

“I’d say you must be overcompensating for something with all that roaring and stomping around.” She pointed her arm just above its legs. “And since I doubt they make pants in your size, I’m guessing I can see what that is. Or more accurately, isn’t...”

Whether it was the content of her diatribe or the fact that the little gnat had the audacity to stand up to it, her speech did the trick. Letting loose a shriek that seemed to shake the walls, it barreled toward her. For something bred to be an invisible killer, it certainly wasn’t using stealth now. Its roar had been enough to shake loose a few small rocks; its running footfalls sent ten times that many crashing to the cavern floor.

At the last possible second she jumped to the side...but not all of her. As she leapt away, Reneau flung her hands toward it, an action that always reminded her of Spider-man from those classic vids. Long, black vines, still connected to the Skin protecting her, wrapped around its legs as it passed. With her right leg pressed to the ground, she barely had enough time to send spikes of Skin into the rocky ground beneath her before the vines went taut. 

The beast roared as it toppled to the ground, undoubtedly in a combination of rage and pain. A shower of splintered rock exploded up from beneath her as the beast was slammed down, but her anchor held. She pictured her body being ripped in half like Hanson’s, but protected by the Skin she barely felt a tug. 

Knowing she had only seconds, she retracted the spikes anchoring her and focused everything she had on the demon at her feet. It was ripping and clawing at the Skin, but she refused to give an inch. She felt the implants within her try to shut down, but through shear force of will the Skin continued to flow through her pores until the beast’s legs were completely covered. Even then she kept calling for more, pushing the inky black substance around its entire body.

In the back of her mind a voice begged her to stop, it was too much! Her body was already starting to spasm with the strain of producing so much Skin. She could feel blood starting to run from her eyes and ears. What few parts of her that could still be called fully human were giving out.

And still, Reneau demanded more.

Because two feet from where it lay was the top half of Hanson’s mangled body. His dead eyes stared at her, demanding vengeance. But those imagined pleas fell on deaf ears. She was doing this for the only reason that mattered. It was the mission.

As her vision began to fade, she vaguely noticed the primal screams had stopped. The beast’s mouth, or snout, or whatever, had been completely covered. She let the vines break free of her hands, knowing there was just enough to finish mummifying the thing.

Ignoring her body's protests, she turned and stiffly walked to where Jeger had been thrown. Only when she’d reached him did she allow herself to collapse to the ground next to him. Pressing her now bare hand to his neck she found a thready pulse. Hopefully he’d survive long enough for extraction.

She rolled onto her back, finally letting the remainder of the black shell that had been her salvation be drawn back in. It would be days, if not longer, until she could call on it again. The implants that produced it were resilient, but even they had their limits. Reaching into the pocket of her uniform she pulled out the slimy yellow bulb within. She pressed her fingers through the back of it and felt the familiar electrical impulses tickle her fingertips.

“ _Report.”_

As always, hearing another person’s voice inside her head felt wrong. However well these long range communicators worked, they were  _not_ designed for humans. Even enhanced humans like her. Whichever of the First Ones had come up with them, their bodies were far more advanced. If they had even possessed bodies.

“Objective completed,” she replied. Although she could simply think her responses, past experience had taught her that her private thoughts were sometimes transmitted if she did. After a few embarrassing communiques, she’d figured out that speaking kept the two separate. Usually anyway.

“ _So, is it something we can use?”_

“The Great Weapon was some kind of invisible beast between six and seven meters in height. It’s been contained.”

“ _That’s…unexpected. We’ve heard of these creatures, but never seen one before. It’s a shame, I was hoping for an advanced weapons system of some sort. Well, at least the bio-tech team will be happy.”_

“Yes, sir,” she said, then took a breath. “You should be aware the creature ambushed us. Hanson is dead and Jeger is severely injured.” She didn’t bother mentioning the Centauri. She was certain her superior cared as little about his survival as she did.

“ _Damn. And you?”_

“Fine sir. But I’m not sure if I should move Jeger. I might cause more damage. Requesting an extraction team with medical personnel sir.”

“ _The_ Kronos _is only an hour away. I’ll have them diverted to your location immediately. Is Agent Jeger well enough to survive by himself for that long?”_

Himself? “I believe so, sir, but I’m no doctor. I’ll retrieve the med kit from the ship and see what I can do.”

“ _Negative, Agent Reneau. I have need of your particular skills elsewhere, and time is a factor.”_

“Yes, sir,” Reneau answered dutifully. She felt as if she could sleep for a week, but orders were orders. However… “Sir, I should report that I was somewhat weakened taking down the creature. I’m not sure how long it’ll take for my enhancements to return to full strength.”

“ _That’s not a problem. The skills I require this time have nothing to do with your enhancements. You were a sniper before we recruited you, correct?”_

“53rd Marine Division, sir” she said. Where was this going? 

“ _Then you’re to report to Mars immediately.”_

“Mars,” she whispered, the shock of it hitting hard. She hadn’t been back to Mars since the so called ‘Resistance’ had nearly ruined her life. The bomb they'd set off had killed most of her friends and had nearly killed her. After that traitor Sheridan had legitimized those same terrorists and put them in charge, she’d sworn never to set foot on that wretched planet again.

“ _Well, you’ll have to set foot there one last time.”_

Damn! Telepathic leakage. “Sorry, sir. I’m on my way.”

Reneau pulled herself to her feet. “May I ask what the mission is?”

“ _Are you familiar with the new_ Excalibur?”

She nodded reflexively before realizing how pointless it was. “Built by the Interstellar Alliance and loaned to EarthForce to find a cure for the Drakh plague.”

“ _That’s the one. She somehow discovered our location here. We believe she’s on her way to Mars now.”_

“For what purpose?” she asked, her suspicions needing confirmation.

“ _To expose our activities. We’re in the process of clearing out, but we can’t let that happen.”_

She swallowed hard. “As I said, sir, my enhancements aren’t functioning at 100% and there’s no way my ship can take on the  _Excalibur_ .”

“ _The_ Excalibur _isn’t the problem, her captain is. He’s the only one who has first hand knowledge of what we’re doing here. Or at least enough knowledge to cause us some substantial problems. When he gets there, you’re to make sure he doesn’t get the chance. No matter what. Understood?”_

“Yes, sir,” she crisply replied, all doubt vanquished from her thoughts. “You can count on me.”

“ _I never doubted it. Contact me when it’s done.”_

Reneau started to respond, but she felt the electrical strands around her fingers lose their charge. He’d cut the connection.

This was  _not_ what she’d signed on for. For the last five years she’d taken on bigger and more important assignments, pushing herself to be better than any of the others. A team mission like the disaster she’d just survived only confirmed what she already knew. Other people, even ones enhanced as she'd been, were a liability. She worked best alone. She’d faced telepaths, Drakh, even agents of The Hand while her so called equals fell around her. 

Her training as a sniper had been in another life. A life before she’d learned how unforgiving the universe was. The flames that had taken her original limbs had forged her into the soldier she was now. Innocent little Ensign Sophie was dead, she was someone…something…better now.

Stop it! That kind of thinking was unworthy of her position. There was no mission beneath her. And stopping the Coalition from being exposed by some self-righteous do-gooder was important. In a way it might even be the most important thing she’d done so far. 

Well, maybe not. But it was important. And ultimately it didn’t matter. Orders were orders. 

Refusing to dwell on it any further, she picked up her rifle and started back out of the cavern without so much as a glance back at her fallen team. As she started to pass Calvini she noticed he was conscious again, just lying there whimpering.

“I never meant for this to happen,” he babbled, unable to take his eyes from where she knew part of Hanson lay. “I just wanted enough money to open my shop. I didn’t want this. I’m not a bad man. I just wanted what’s coming to me.”

Reneau, still carrying her rifle in one hand, lifted it just enough to get off a shot, ending the poor excuse for an alien. His craven actions could have cost her more than the mission, he could have gotten her killed. Not that she would have done it for that reason, it just made it easier.

The Coalition didn’t leave witnesses. In this mission it had been a necessity after the fact. In the next, that truth was all that mattered. If Major Lee wanted Captain Gideon dead, nothing would stop her from doing just that.


	2. Chapter 2

  **January 3rd, 2268**

**Solis Planum, Mars**  

Galen watched the exchange between his five crewmates from a discreet distance. Mathew had made it quite clear he didn't want him involved in any of this. Which was understandable, if not particularly wise. He felt betrayed and used, the precise reason Galen had kept his origins and mission from him in the first place. Of course the Circle had ordered his silence on both matters, punishable by death, but that was a weak justification for his own cowardice. He'd defied the Circle on numerous occasions, never receiving more than a slap on the wrist. Truthfully, he suspected the reason they'd tasked him with hunting down this cabal within EarthForce was because they knew he was going to do it anyway and didn't want to appear powerless to stop him. 

No, the reason he'd held his tongue was the same reason he always did...the fear of making himself vulnerable. For years after saving the young Ensign Gideon's life he'd kept tabs on him from the safety of the hiding place. He'd placed several microscopic probes on him, using molecular bonding to make certain they remained firmly in place. While he shut the rest of the universe out, including his fellow techno-mages, he had often gone back and kept watch over him. There were a multitude of reasons he'd given to others over the years who'd discovered this, but the simple truth was he wanted to feel close to someone. Although Mathew had never been aware of him, just watching him go through the minutia of everyday life made him feel connected to someone without the risk of loss or betrayal. 

After the Drakh had released their plague, Galen had convinced President Sheridan to give the mission to Gideon. The Circle rebuked him for interfering in this way...despite the fact his last interference had saved the Earth from instant annihilation. He'd convinced them that since Mathew still hunted for those responsible for the _Cerberus_ , placing him on the most powerful ship available and giving him unlimited resources improved their chances of finding them as well. But more than that, Galen craved being a part of this new family being assembled. 

Mathew's accusation that Galen had never cared for him, that he'd been using and manipulating him since the day of his rescue, had torn at him like nothing had in years. And now he was heading into a danger he didn't fully understand. He should have shared every detail, both of his Order and of the secret cabal rather than remaining silent, searching for the perfect words to magically undo the damage. Once again his emotionally stunted nature had caused him to flounder when the simplest of confessions was all that had been required. If it took the rest of his life, he would prove his intentions...even if he must do so from afar. 

The others moved away as Mathew made his way to the security entrance of MarsGov Headquarters. At that moment he noticed something amiss, a displacement of the air around him. He blinked his eyes once, calling upon the implants set within them to do a scan. For some reason, Mathew was now covered with a benign radiogenic element. It had probably occurred while the cabal had been holding him, he'd just been to distracted to notice. First by the chamber of horrors they went through to get out of that base, then by the accusations hurled at him. He magnified the image, seeing a minor distortion of the aura over his heart. It took him less than a second to identify it as the end of a laser scope, normally visible only to the shooter. 

He bolted from his hiding place, throwing bystanders to the side as if they were rag dolls. Using his tech, he amplified his voice, desperate to stop what he saw coming. “No! Mathew! Mathew! Get down!” 

Mathew turned in confusion, but the laser line stayed precisely on target as he spun. As if in slow motion, his body jerked twice as high powered projectiles slid right through his chest. His eyes rolled up into his head as his blood sprayed ont the sidewalk behind him.  As his body slumped to the ground, it convulsed again, a third bullet having made contact. 

Somehow Galen kept his feet moving, but the only thought going through his mind was a single word, repeating as rapidly as his shoes striking the pavement. No. No. No. About two feet away from him, he came to a grinding halt, unable to even bend down to check for signs of life. 

Chambers was hovering over the body now, though he had no idea how she'd gotten there. Mathew's limp form was in sharp focus, but everything else was wavering, an indistinct blur in his peripheral vision. She was saying something, but the words were lost under the sound of his own blood rushing through his ears. Time disappeared. The universe narrowed to a single point. His friend...his family...lying there, beyond his help. 

He jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder. At some point Chambers had risen and was now standing in front of him. He saw her lips moving and focused all of his concentration on what they were saying. They couldn't see him like this. He had to push past it, to bury it. “...you alright?”, was all he managed to get. 

Fighting past the shock, he forced out a raspy, “Mathew?” 

Why had he even asked? He knew...had known from the moment the bullets struck. Pieces of his heart lay splattered on the sidewalk, mixed with blood and tiny shards of bone. Again he found himself slipping away, her words barely audible. It took every ounce of willpower he had to to return to reality again. 

“I'm so sorry, Galen. He was gone the moment those bullets hit him. Even if we'd been in medbay there's nothing I could have done.” 

He nodded, pulling off the outer layer of his robe which had already come partially off in his futile, mad dash. In reverence he knelt down, laying it over Mathew's still form. “You did all you could, doctor. He knew the risks in coming here.” 

Behind him, Eilerson broke in. “Where the hell did those shots come from? Isn't anyone else concerned there may still be a sniper up there?” 

Galen slowly rose, his anger honing in on the ever present voice of self-interest. His demeanor must have been truly frightening, because for the first time since they'd met, Max Eilerson took a step back out of fear. “Listen,” Eilerson continued. “I'm just as upset about this as you, but there are innocent people on the street and a killer up there somewhere.” He gestured toward the buildings in the background as he spoke. “If you want to take it out on someone, he's probably getting away.” 

That quickly, Eilerson became unimportant. Conjuring a platform beneath him, his tech eagerly echoed his commands and he was flying through the crowds before anyone could think of trying to stop him. He clipped the shoulder of a man who didn't get out of the way fast enough, sending the pedestrian spinning into a wall. Ahead the crowd looked even thicker as people were rushing out to see what the commotion on the street was all about. 

“I don't have time for this,” he muttered. With the wave of his hand he conjured a wind tunnel, stretching out in front of him like a great cone. As he dove through the crowd, people were blown to each side a fraction of a second before he would have collided with them. He knew it was safer to go above the buildings and dive back down, but that would cost him precious time. His unforgivable display upon seeing Mathew struck down had already given the assassin too much of a lead. 

With the ease of a single thought, he associated with his ship, connecting himself with its systems. He'd previously ordered it to link up with planetary security to monitor for any suspicious arrivals. But as intuitive as its computer was, it could only do so much without his mind to guide it. Still, it now granted him immediate access to the various security systems in the area. Setting the search for the last five minutes, he programmed facial recognition scans of every person within a six block radius. Hundreds upon hundreds of faces appeared, far too many to search one by one. Fortunately, he still had an advantage, the final gift left to him by his one true love. 

When Isabelle had died all those years ago, she had willed to him all of her files, including those of her recently murdered teacher, Burell. In the depths of his grief, he'd tucked them away, refusing to so much as look at them. Over the years he'd been forced to access various spells and research, but what he needed now was something far less mystical. Upon leaving the hiding place last year, he'd discovered a complete copy of EarthForce intelligence files, circa December 2258. As they hadn't been updated since that time, they should have been quite useless. However,when they'd found the rogue base several days earlier, he'd discovered several of its members, including its commander, Major Lee, listed within it. While their personnel files had been expertly deleted from every other database, Burell's had remained untouched. 

As he maneuvered through the crowd, his system compared the identities of every face it scanned with those of the outdated database, searching for discrepancies. After several agonizingly long seconds, it finally discovered one, an unremarkable young woman. Reorienting the platform to travel in her direction, he simultaneously reviewed the file. The woman's Mars entry papers listed her as Janet D'Angelo, a saleswoman for Fulsom Electronics, a small start-up business. However Burell's files showed her to be a recent EarthForce Academy applicant, one Sophie Reneau. Comparing the name to current MarsNet files, it showed that Sophie had died in a terrorist attack over six years ago. While it was possible she'd changed her name for some other reason, with no other discrepancies coming up, she was the most likely candidate. Having his system lock onto her, he found she was approaching the nearby Collins Spaceport. 

Finally hitting a relatively clear stretch, he increased his speed even more, having to grip the transparent edge of his platform tightly to prevent falling off. In the distance he could now see her, casually walking toward the spaceport as if she hadn't a care in the world. Beneath his skin, he felt his tech urging him to destruction in a way it hadn't done in years. He'd found peace with it, or so he had thought. But while his mind tried to slow the burning rage, his emotions railed against him, joining with the tech's desire to fulfill the Shadows original purpose for his kind. 

Unable to contain it any longer, he dissolved the platform without slowing, putting all of his unspent energies into an inhuman leap into the air. Arcing a dozen feet into the sky, he projected a weak shield near the ground, cushioning him as he landed in a defensive crouch twenty feet behind her. Somehow, the assassin hadn't noticed him yet, which sent a renewed wave of rage echoing through his tech. He converted it into a massive fireball, hurling it into the ground in front of her, causing the pavement to erupt in a violent explosion. She managed to stay on her feet, though staggered back a few steps, her arms raising to protect her face from the shrapnel. At last she spun around, unable to ignore him any longer. His eyes went wide as he stared at her face... 

“Abomination,” he said, the word somewhere between a growl and a whisper. 

It's left side was covered with the sickly black of Shadow Skin. Her clothes on that side were shredded from the blast as well, but there was no blood anywhere. 

When he and Gideon had infiltrated the hidden base, dozens of once sentient beings had wandered beneath the surface, now nothing more than parts of a great machine. What races they had been was impossible to determine, Shadow Skin covered every inch of them. Galen knew the rogue humans had not invented this evil, he had seen the same horrors on Za'ha'Dum when he'd traveled there during the Great War. Both times, he'd been so sickened by what he'd seen, he had lashed out with every ounce of power at his disposal, caring about nothing but ending the suffering of the victims trapped within the Skin. Was Mathew's assassin nothing more than a victim herself? 

“Big mistake, techno-mage,” Reneau said, seeming to pull the Skin back inside herself on command. 

In that moment, Galen's pity dissolved as his mind tried to grasp what he was seeing. In all of his studies of the Shadows, he'd never heard of them using the technology in this way. How was it possible that a group of humans, millions of years behind them technologically, could have found a more effective way to weaponize it? 

“What have they done to you?” he demanded. 

“They saved me,” Reneau replied. “And helped me to become the perfect weapon.” 

Galen let out a humorless laugh. “Funny, that's what the Shadows thought when they made us.” 

“We are nothing like you! We fight for the future of Earth and the protection of humanity. You...you ran and hid when the galaxy needed you most.” 

Galen lowered his head in disbelief. While she may have been a victim at one time, now it was clear she was a true believer. And there were very few things in this galaxy more dangerous. 

Reneau read his hesitation as a lack of resolve. “We don't have to fight. This was nothing personal. I'm simply following orders and they don't include you. This time.” 

“Just following orders?” Galen scoffed. “The mantra of butchers and assassins down through the ages who hope to escape taking responsibility for their actions. You killed a good man today. My friend. I cannot...I will not let you walk away.” 

She shrugged. “Then we have a problem.” 

“It would seem so,” he agreed. “I don't suppose I could convince you to surrender now. You clearly know what I am. You can't possibly believe you can defeat me.” 

“Maybe, maybe not.” Raising her hands up, the Skin oozed out from beneath her skin, covering them with pulsating black orbs. “But I'm just curious enough to find out.” 

Without waiting for her to act, he launched two fireballs at her, followed by a stream of electrical energy. Reaching out, she caught a fireball effortlessly in each hand, but the lightening surge hit her dead on. To his surprise, she didn't even flinch, her Skin absorbing its power as quickly as it connected. 

“I always thought your kind was more hype than true power.” The orbs of Skin on her hands began to stretch and squirm, looking like a cross between snakes and swords. She slammed them into the ground, breaking through the cement at her feet. “My turn.” 

Galen fought to steady himself as the ground began to shake. Between them, the pavement was cracking, shards of it flying into the air as the tendrils of Skin borrowed through it on a direct path to him. With only seconds to react before they arrived, he did the first thing that came to mind, once again conjuring a simple platform beneath his feet. It lifted him a foot above the oncoming damage then slid him a few feet to the side, safely out of the path of destruction. No longer in danger, he dissolved the platform and gracefully landed on the ground, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. 

“If that's the best you can do, I believe you're the one who's overestimating their abilities,” he told her. 

Reneau smiled and pulled her hands from the ground. “You're assuming I was aiming for you.” 

Even though she was no longer connected to them, the tendrils continued to tear through the ground, writhing in a straight line past where he'd been standing. Following the line out past the shattering cement, Galen saw it was on a direct path toward the main support for the bullet train running over the city. While designed to withstand pretty much any explosion that wouldn't also vaporize the dome, they'd obviously never been tested against Shadow technology. He had no idea how powerful it was, but being a creation of the Shadows, he had to imagine it had incredible destructive potential. 

Reneau confidently took another few steps toward him “So, what's it going to be, techno-mage? Revenge for your fallen friend, or saving the lives of all these innocents? Which, if you haven't noticed, includes your shipmates.” 

Looking back he knew she was correct. And as deeply as he burned to end Reneau, he couldn't lose the others. He could almost hear Gideon's voice, telling him to move. Now! He conjured a new platform beneath his feet. 

“Tell your superiors you've brought the wrath of a techno-mage upon them. I will be coming for you all.” Without waiting for a response, he shot off, trying to get ahead of the Skin. 

Plotting a path running directly parallel to it, he attempted to stop it with a rapid succession of fireballs. But as with Reneau, the deep black substance seemed to absorb the power without any obvious damage. Getting close enough to the front edge, he threw a shield over it. While never his strongest power, the shield seemed to hold, the bulbous end of the Skin splitting into a series of fingers, then separating further into a complex root system, probing for weakness. The pressure was intense...beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. Now slightly ahead of the damage, he dissolved the platform he'd been using, needing all of his concentration to continually adjust the shape and size of the shield as the Skin snaked it's way over its surface. With its master no longer attached to it, how much longer could it keep this up? 

The seconds ran together into minutes, showing no sign of weakening. After what felt like hours, the pressure eased up and the Skin began to drop to the ground, strand by strand. As the last one fell, he let the shield drop as he fell to his knees in exhaustion. Overhead, he saw a small ship launching, a standard interplanetary shuttle. Making certain he was still connected to his ship, he sent the order to summon it as he felt a renewed rumbling beneath him. He looked back down the length of the shriveled strands to find they'd regained their full, awesome power a half a block back the way he'd come. He hadn't beaten them after all. They had simply disconnected themselves from their trapped portions and chosen a new vector for their attack on the city. 

Canceling the summons to his ship, he forced himself back to his feet. This level of control was beyond even his worst fears. If the cabal he'd been hunting had altered Reneau, had implanted her with a new type of ultra adaptive Shadow Skin, they were far more dangerous then he'd ever believed. 

As the Marsquakes grew stronger, Galen knew he only had one weapon in his arsenal that could stop them. His Spell of Destruction should be effective, but as he watched the crowd gather, he knew how the Circle would respond. When he'd first discovered it, they had forbidden him from experimenting with it, not that it had stopped him. Even now he was under orders to use it only at their discretion. And in front of all of these witnesses, they would be very displeased, to say the least. Among the crowd he saw Dureena, forcing her way closer to him. He wouldn't let her perish now. He couldn't, no matter what she or the others might see. 

To try and maintain what little secrecy he still had while working out here in the open, he amplified his voice again. “Everyone stand aside!” With another wave of his hand a blanket of fog fell over the sidewalk. Not as thick as he'd like, but given his weakened state it was better than nothing. 

Focusing on the largest exposed section of Skin, he cast the spell. A distorted bubble appeared center mass, causing it to writhe in agony as if it were alive. Quickly, he chose another section, then another, forming new orbs over every piece that was even partially above the ground. One by one they imploded, taking whatever pieces were trapped within into oblivion. The remaining pieces fell to the ground, withering and dying around the wounded segments. 

And still, the ground shook. 

Galen felt helpless, unable to blindly cast the spell beneath their feet. The surviving Skin had gone deep to avoid him, having learned from its past mistakes. Any defensive or offensive spell he had either required him to see where to aim or to be able to track it along a course. If he'd brought a powered probe with, he could send it through the small hole to give him a line of sight, but he had nothing on him. Even his staff would have given him more options, but he'd left it on his ship, not wanting to look conspicuous following Mathew around. 

Looking up at the tube support, the weight of his failures overwhelmed him. He'd failed to save Mathew, failed to stop his killer and now was failing to save these hundreds of innocents. Through the veil of fog, his enhanced vision still allowed him to see Dureena, who somehow seemed to be looking straight at him, despite the sea of white. She was saying something...what was it? He magnified the image, reading her lips. Three simple words. 

“Don't. Give. Up.” 

Turning back to the support, he conjured a new platform, shooting towards it. He couldn't see where the Skin was, but he knew what it's target was. Perhaps it was designed to never give up, not until it completed it's programmed task. Rising about twenty-five feet off the ground, he decided his only chance was to fight fire with fire. As one of their more potent technologies, the Shadows had placed the ability to produce the Skin inside the techno-mages as well. As far as he knew, he was still the only one of his kind who even knew how to summon it, the knowledge lost along with the other basic postulates generations ago. And his control wasn't anything like Reneau's, his Shadow Skin didn't work the same way. But like the Spell of Destruction, it was one which came as naturally to him as breathing. Unlike shields and fireballs, which took more concentration, he should have enough strength left for what needed to be done. Though whether it would make a difference he couldn't even begin to guess. 

Gripping the corner of the massive support, Galen called forth the Skin from somewhere deep inside. It spread out from his palms, slowly wrapping itself around the entire circumference of the support. From the ground it looked like someone had tied a thick band around it...and then the band began to spread. Galen sent it down along its entire surface, continuing to push against the ground when it hit the bottom. Moments later he felt Reneau's Skin make contact with it and stop in frustration. Rather than holding it firm as he'd done with his shield before, he compelled his Skin to continue its downward motion, following hers all the way back to where it began. It tried to split off to escape, but he was faster, catching each root system and blocking it before it got more than a few feet. When he felt the end of it, he sealed his off on both sides, trapping it. Before it could adapt in some new way, he squeezed as tightly as he could, crushing it until it was reduced to powder. Feeling all its life drain away, he finally let go, barely able to maintain the platform beneath him as he lowered himself to the ground. 

The second he let go of the support, his own Shadow Skin started to slip away. As he felt solid ground beneath him, he stopped sending all signals to his tech, the exhaustion finally overwhelming him past the point where will power alone could keep him going. A hand gripped his shoulder and he raised his head to see Dureena standing there. The rest of the crowd was scattering, panicked, unsure of what had just happened. 

“So, are you going to show me how you did that,” Dureena asked. 

Galen fell backwards, laughing at the absurdity of it all. She'd been asking him that same thing for a year now, but this time, it wasn't pressure, it was a private joke they could share in. “Perhaps in time,” he rasped, “when you're ready.” 

“Come on,” she said, draping his arm over her shoulder and pulling him up. “We'd better get out of here before the authorities show up. You don't look like you're in any condition for another fight.” 

Taking a breath he called upon his tech again, using another basic postulate so as not to drain himself more than necessary. The air around them shimmered and they both faded from sight. 

 

 * * * * *

 

In all his time in the Psi Corps, John Matheson had never felt anyone die before. What death he'd seen had been in the chaos of those final days while he was running for his life. Or from the shuttle making its escape, his fellow telepaths all dying far below. He'd read about it. A few instructors who had performed death scans had explained it to him, but he'd never had first hand experience. Until now. 

It had been unlike anything he'd been warned about. When the bullets struck, he'd been too far away to do anything, even catch Matt's falling body. For some reason he'd instinctively reached out in the only way he could from so far away, telepathically. For a terrifying few seconds he'd shared his friend's pain, confusion, anger and fear. But there had been no metaphorical doorway or bright light for his “soul” to enter. It had felt like some demonic force had reached deep inside, wrapped its clawed hand around everything that made him who he was, and yanked it out with a force that still made Matheson shudder. 

Maybe it was because the death scans he'd heard about were people in hospitals who'd gently slipped away, while the brutality of Matt's death was nearly instantaneous. There had been nothing natural about it. He'd been robbed of his life in an instant by a group who feared the truth. And while he would always honor the memory of who Mathew Gideon was and what he stood for, the feeling of his mind being ripped from his body was the one memory that would overpower all others. 

At least it seemed as if the sniper had only been after Gideon. At first people had only gathered in curiosity, having seen a man collapse in the street. No gunshots had been heard, the sniper must have been using a silencer. True chaos didn't erupt until Galen and leapt up onto an invisible object and flown away at unbelievable speed. He had shoved everyone out of the way, so desperate to follow Eilerson's suggestion that he seek revenge. Matheson had glared at the self-centered pain-in-the-ass after that, but Eilerson was unapologetic. 

“Don't blame me. Vengeance is something Gideon would both understand and condone.” Eilerson had paused, looking down at Gideon's body, still hidden beneath Galen's robe. “If Galen doesn't skin that bastard, I will.” 

Matheson had backed down at that point, seeing that he wasn't the only one in pain over this. Galen, who'd known him the longest and saved his life on multiple occasions had seemed to be in complete shock until Eilerson had ignited the fires of vengeance. Chambers, Eilerson and Dureena had only known him a short time, but he'd earned all of their respects a dozen times over. It was his way. You either hated him or you loved him. 

Thinking back to when he'd first met Gideon, he'd feared him more than anything else. When the Psi Corps had been dissolved, all telepaths who wanted to enter EarthForce would be placed in an accelerated program to get on a ship. He'd been one of only a handful to go through, and was the first to graduate and receive a commission as an ensign. His first assignment had been under the controversial Captain Gideon in command of the EAS _Hyperion_. After his first ship had been destroyed in an “accident” Gideon had been dumped onto the _Hyperion_ as a lieutenant. Within a year he already had three reprimands on his file...and another promotion to lieutenant commander. Over the next few years the trend continued until he'd finally been made one of the most talked about captains in EarthForce. 

Having been assigned to the captain who'd made promotion through rule breaking an art form, Matheson had been terrified. He'd always excelled above others by following the new rules with fervor, even when that meant taking the road that was twice as hard. But Gideon had surprised him after his first week, pulling him aside... 

“I make it a point to study the files of all the new recruits,” Gideon had said. “If I'm not seriously mistaken about you, I'm guessing you've done the same homework on me.” 

“Yes, sir,” was all he could manage. 

Gideon just gave a firm nod. “I figured as much. So I'm guessing you've come to the same conclusion I have about why you were assigned to me?” 

Matheson had just given him a blank look. “Sir?” 

“Oh don't play coy, Ensign. Are you telling me you haven't given it any thought? Speak your mind.” 

“No, sir,” he'd said, answering the first part before realizing it sounded like a refusal of the second. “I mean yes, sir. I mean...it seems to me I was sent here because our styles are so different. I tend to follow every rule, which probably won't impress an officer of your...unorthodox command style. Sir.” 

In that moment he'd been terrified he'd said too much, but Gideon had just laughed it off. 

“Really. And here I thought you'd been put here to report on my, how did you put it, unorthodox command style. Although looking at it from your perspective, I can see how you'd feel used too.” 

Not wanting to get sucked into the trap of either accusing his superiors of using him or questioning his new captain's take on the situation, Matheson had opted for a simple, “I'm just here to do my duty, sir.” 

Gideon put his hand on Matheson's shoulder, something no one had done in years. First because touching was taboo in the Corps, then because people feared making contact with a telepath. None of that seemed to bother Gideon at all. 

“As are we all, Ensign. But let's prove them all wrong. I could use a little...orthodoxy in my command style. If you wouldn't mind telling me when I'm being an ass, maybe I can help you to loosen up a little. Within the rules of course.” 

Matheson had been blown away, but had tentatively accepted the proposal. He'd kept waiting for Gideon to try to push it too far, or to accuse him of insubordination when he questioned something, but it had never happened. He'd gained a mentor and a friend, and when Gideon had been offered command of the _Phoenix_ , the newest Explorer class ship just off the line, he'd insisted the recently promoted Lieutenant Matheson come with as first officer. 

And now he was gone. 

The Earth shook under his feet and he saw Dureena run off towards the commotion. Though he didn't have any proof, he'd bet a year's salary that Galen was somehow involved in this. Part of him wanted to chase after them both, but he couldn't leave his captain's side, especially not now. He'd guard his body with his life until it was somewhere safe. There was a chance something on it would lead to his killers and he wasn't about to let anyone get near it. 

So he watched and waited while the ground repeatedly shook beneath his feet. Even when the sky filled with a thick fog and a man, surely Galen, flew into the sky and somehow spread some black substance over the support beam to the bullet train. At that point he almost moved, fearing the killer had somehow boarded the train and Galen was willing to sacrifice the other passengers to get to him. But less than a minute later Galen drifted out of sight and the support beam returned to normal, no damage done. 

He raised his head as high as he could, trying to see over the running crowds. Were they mobbing Galen? Was he out of control, causing them to run from him? 

“What the hell are you doing, Galen?” he mumbled under his breath. 

“Trying to save your lives. Try to show a little gratitude.” 

Matheson jumped as the air shimmered beside him, revealing Galen, being supported by Dureena. Somehow he'd made them invisible...which was something he just didn't want to think about right now. 

“Did you catch him?” 

Galen lowered his eyes to the ground. “Her actually and no, I did not. All of that,” he gestured toward the lifting fog, “was her little distraction. I probably could have stopped her, but since it would have meant sacrificing all of you, I chose not to.” 

Eilerson butted in. “So all that was for nothing?” 

“I'm regretting my choice already." 

Sirens began to fill the air with overlapping wails coming from multiple sources. Galen separated himself from Dureena and stumbled briefly before finding his footing. 

“We are about to have company and I'd rather not have to explain all of this to them,” Galen said. “Suffice it to say the perpetrators of this heinous crime are deeply embedded within the ranks of your government. If any of us are detained, or if Mathew's body is found here, I strongly suspect we will rapidly find ourselves powerless within their machinations.” 

Matheson shook his head in disbelief. “You want us to go on the run from our own government? To be part of a cover-up? That's exactly the thing the captain died trying to expose. I won't do it.” 

Galen took a step toward him, but Matheson held his ground as the techno-mage leaned forward. “Your captain underestimated his opponents. As careful as he was, they still easily stopped him...and myself. If you are so concerned with honoring him, remember his last request to you was to _not_ come to Mars and to _not_ involve yourselves in this. Now you have and you must face the consequences. If you wait here, you will likely be framed for his murder or at the very least be charged with conspiracy against Earth.” 

“There's no evidence against us,” Eilerson said, sounding unsure. 

“Yes,” Galen continued with thick sarcasm, “and I'm certain that will stop them. There may be a way out of this, but not if we allow our enemies to control the board. Use your authority. Take Mathew and return to the _Excalibur_. Get as far away from here as possible and don't answer any communications.” 

“I can't do that!” Matheson cried out. “Right now we haven't done anything wrong. If we do this, we won't need to be framed. We'll be guilty.” 

“Blame Mathew, I'm certain he would approve,” Galen said, looking down at the captain's body. “The doctor can claim he was still alive after the shots and gave an order to go into hiding. Once we have bolstered our position, we will return on a new playing field, one in which we have the advantage. Or at the very least one on which we are not powerless.” 

With great effort Galen shakily stepped up onto his invisible platform again. “Now go! I can delay them, but not for long. Choose wisely, lieutenant. The fate of your crew and perhaps even your mission to save Earth, depends on what you do in the next few minutes.” 

He shot off, though at much slower speeds than last time as they all watched in disbelief. 

Dureena turned back towards Matheson. “Well, that's one way to win an argument.” 

“Are we seriously going to do this,” Chambers asked. “What if he's wrong?” 

“What if he's right,” Matheson said. “Whoever's doing this wants to derail us, put puppets on the _Excalibur_ who approve of their way of doing things. Do any of you think that's the best way to find a cure?” 

“Maybe,” Eilerson said, to the shocked looks of the others. “Look, all I'm saying is that these people have power and connections. After what they did to the captain, I don't want to follow them any more than you, but if we're looking at what's best for the mission, it's something to consider.” 

In the distance the sirens became distorted. Obviously they'd run into Galen. 

“So we take a vote,” Matheson said, knowing time was short. “If we do this, we all have to lie on record and it'll affect everyone. So what'll it be?” 

“I'm in,” Dureena said without hesitation. 

Chambers nodded. “Yeah, me too.” 

They all looked to Eilerson. “I abstain...for now.” With Dureena's look of disdain burning into him, he quickly continued. “I have contacts at IPX I can use to feel out what happened here. I can't do that if I'm on the run. When I get some answers, I'll join you.” 

Though skeptical, Matheson knew it was the best they could hope for. Gently scooping up Gideon's body, he started for the shuttle, parked in the airfield a couple blocks away. Eilerson jogged off into the distance, disappearing around the corner. He could hear Chambers and Dureena talking behind him. 

“I just hope Galen can find us once we go on the run,” Chambers said. 

“He's a techno-mage,” Dureena pointed out. “That's the one part of this plan I'm not worried about.


	3. Chapter 3

  **Techno-mage Pinnace**  

Galen awoke lying awkwardly on the bed in his small sleeping compartment. A quick connection with his ship confirmed that he'd been unconscious only three hours, as he'd planned. Stopping that sickly Shadow Skin had been draining enough, but having to delay the police from arriving at the scene until the others could escape had pushed him over the edge. Not that he'd done anything that spectacular... a fireball here, an electrical current there, a handful of holo-demons. But on top of the previous battle, he'd decided he could afford to wait in hiding for a few hours while his body recovered. His ship was well hidden and would have awoken him in a moment on the off chance someone had stumbled upon it. 

By now the _Excalibur_ should be well under way. Hopefully the lieutenant had managed to escape long before the other ships in the area had been ordered to use force to stop them. He wasn't certain Matheson had that level of rebellion inside of him. And if he did, it would complicate the situation to a degree Galen wasn't at all convinced they could extricate themselves from. 

He noticed he'd received multiple requests for an electron incantation while he'd been indisposed. Clearly someone back home had learned of his little adventure on Mars and was itching to issue a reprimand. Or just as likely it was a summons to return to the hiding place. The one thing they were least likely to forgive was the drawing of attention to himself, and by extension, to them. For a brief moment he considered ignoring the request. It was unlikely they'd risk further exposure by sending anyone out after him, he'd simply become persona non grata within the hiding place. No great loss there. 

However if he was to cut those ties completely, he should at least do them the courtesy of telling them why. After all, that was one of the key questions their order was supposed to investigate. If they chose to bury their heads in the sand and let the rest of the galaxy burn, as had become their modus operandi, perhaps they'd at least spend their time developing countermeasures to prevent these rogues from stealing their secrets as well. 

Galen closed his eyes and conjured a background for their little tete a tete. After considering a few of the usual backdrops, he decided on something a little more fitting, and chose the street on Mars where all of this had begun. When the stage was set, he responded to the summons, knowing he wouldn't have to wait long. 

He was not disappointed. Within seconds a cowled techno-mage appeared. As he'd hoped the setting caught him off guard. “Dirk, I see you've missed my company so much that you've left five summons in the last few hours. I didn't know you cared.” 

Pulling back the cowl, Dirk uncovered his shaved head. Several years older than Galen, Dirk was a human of African descent with a thin goatee and shockingly blue eyes. After Galen's departure he had taken over the task of keeping tabs on life outside the hiding place. While Galen had done it to see where his services may be needed, Dirk had no such imagination. He watched all that was happening, compiled detailed reports, then told the Circle what he thought they wanted to hear. He'd also, sadly, become the one contact Galen generally had back to the hiding place. 

“The Circle is not pleased with you, Galen,” Dirk began, placing an authoritative vibrato into his voice. “Explain yourself!” 

“I'm quite certain the Circle isn't pleased with most of what I do, so you're going to have to be a bit more specific.” 

Dirk waved his arm into the air, showing a holo-image with an ISN logo across the bottom. “Does this refresh your memory?” 

Galen watched his image combat the Shadow Skin, coat the support with his own version, then vanish into thin air. “Ah, that.” 

“Yes...that,” Dirk said, freezing the image. “Your authority to interact with those beyond the hiding place came with clear restrictions. Show yourself to as few as possible. Leave no trace behind that could prove our existence. You have violated both of these.” 

“And so much more,” Galen replied. He noticed the caption on the screen. “Techno-mage Rampage? Not nearly as clever as I would have hoped. Quite depressing really. Makes light of the whole situation.” 

“As are you.” Dirk stared coldly at him. He was far too serious about himself to rise to the bait. “We have attempted our own campaign of disinformation to combat this. We have released plausible explanations as to how all of your powers could be explained using traditional technologies. Sadly, the people of Earth seem determined to believe in magic rather than the mundane.” 

“Quite understandable,” Galen told him. “After all, when your entire planet is dependent upon a miracle for its very salvation, grasping at every straw to bolster this belief is to be expected.” 

“That's all you have to say,” Dirk replied in dismay. “Did you do all of this in a misguided attempt to bring hope to the hopeless?” 

“Not a bad idea, but I'm afraid I'm not that altruistic. This little docudrama didn't how all of this began, so let me enlighten you.” He waved his own hand, causing Dirk's screen to disappear to be replaced by a life sized woman staring defiantly at him. “Allow me to introduce you to Sophie Reneau. Or at least that's the name she used to go by. I'm uncertain if she still uses it now actually.” 

“What does she have to do with any of this?” Dirk asked. 

“Watch and learn,” Galen said. 

With another flick of his wrist he conjured a duplicate of himself and let Dirk watch the entire scene play out. As her Shadow Skin appeared for the first time, then was pulled back into her body, he had the pleasure of watching Dirk's normally unshakable facade waiver. When the Skin entered the ground and began it's attack run, his aura of self assurance slipped even more. Galen continued the scene until it lined up with the images ISN had captured, then froze the playback. 

“This is an accurate recreation?” 

Galen slowly approached him, keeping his voice as calm as he could. “Had I not participated first hand in the event, I would have doubted it as well. From what I witnessed at Major Lee's house of horrors, the full magnitude of their accomplishments was not apparent. It would seem they have moved far beyond even our worst fears.” 

Dirk shook his head in denial. “How could Earth have learned so much in such a short time? It is not possible. The Shadows never conceived of such uses for their technology.” 

“Throughout their history, humanity has proven time and again that they can find ways to pervert any advancement into its most potent destructive form,” Galen replied. “In that regard, they may very well be a more worthy successor to the Shadows than even the Drakh.” 

Dirk extended his arm, then swiped it back with a grasping motion, pulling the paused images into a ball. With a flourish they vanished. “The Circle will wish to review this new information.” 

“No doubt,” Galen said. “Make certain they choose the proper path based on this development. We cannot continue to hide ourselves away while these perversions are loosed upon the galaxy.” 

“You presume to tell the Circle what path they should choose for us? Many in the hiding place speak of your great understanding of our powers and your bravery in risking yourself to save the lesser races. If they could hear you now... Is it your desire to lead us in place of the Circle?” 

Galen's calm began to slip. “I have never had any desire to lead, nor do I now. You see treason in my words because unlike the Circle, I have chosen to take action. We could make a difference...” 

“We could be defeated by those who understand the Shadow's technology better than ourselves,” Dirk interjected. 

“Perhaps. But that threat will always exist. If not these rogue EarthForce officers, then it would be the Drakh. Or the Hand. Or even the Interstellar Alliance as they grow more powerful. The universe will never be _completely_ safe. But if we wait until we believe it is, our kind will fade away in hiding, never accomplishing anything.” 

As usual his words had no effect. “Better to fade away then to be used as instruments of destruction.” 

“It sounds as if you're fairly certain what the Circle will decide,” Galen pointed out. “Not that you're wrong mind you. While these images should move even the most stubborn of us, as always, I underestimate the allure of safety. These people have acted openly and violently, killing the strongest ally we had, and all you're concerned about is how much of my response was seen.” 

“Gideon is dead?” Dirk said. “You failed to mention that until now and I did not see it in the report. This woman killed him.” It was a statement, not a question. 

“Yes,” Galen said. “I had assumed you already knew, being the assigned watcher and all.” 

“No,” Dirk said, “but it explains much. Their was no sound in your recreation. I'd found that peculiar, but as I watched its importance faded.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Dirk's stony stare faded into a look of sympathy. “This woman didn't start this fight, did she?” 

Galen found himself at a loss for words. How was even someone as creatively challenged as Dirk not seeing the bigger picture? “She killed Gideon. Shot him in front of a hundred witnesses to prevent him from exposing their secrets.” 

“She killed him with a gun.” Dirk was talking slowly as if to a child. “Then she attempted to escape. No one was put in danger until you forced her hand by using your powers on her.” 

Galen felt his rage begin to grow at his tone. “I had no way of knowing what she was. You saw! We had no inkling that anything like her was possible!” 

“And if you had known? Would you still not have gone after her for killing Gideon? For killing your friend?” 

The question brought him up short. Of course he would have acted in the same way. She'd killed a good man... a great man, and she deserved to be punished. Yes, he'd escalated the encounter, but it was her blatant act of murder that had started it. He would not apologize for that. He just held Dirk's gaze, refusing to answer. 

“As I thought.” Dirk turned away. “I will relay this information and your recommendation to the Circle. Do not expect any miracles though.” 

“Why should I expect miracles from a council of wizards who refuse to use their powers,” Galen spat back at him. 

Dirk turned back. “And if you are recalled, will you come?” 

“I made a vow to Mathew to do everything within my power to stop these people. If I allow them to continue to build their power, I open the door for another tyrannical force to gain control of the people of Earth. I will not yield until I have fulfilled my oath to the best of my ability. I owe him that much.” 

“And what of us?” Dirk asked. “What of your own people? You made a vow to the Circle long before you made one to Gideon. Would you betray the first to fulfill the second?” 

Galen took a deep breath, locking eyes with him one last time. “I swear to you I will do what is right for my people, before all others.” 

Seemingly satisfied, Dirk faded away. 

Galen stared at the empty street for a moment, then restored some players into the background. Before him stood Matheson, Dureena, Chambers and Eilerson. “I will do what is right for my people. I swear it Mathew.”

 

* * * * *

 

_“This is an ISN special report continuing our ongoing coverage of the Techno-mage Rampage. Tonight we have with us presidential hopeful Jacob Redway of the North American Confederation. Senator, thank you for joining us.”_

_“Thank you for having me, Jane,” Redway replied with his self-proclaimed Texas charm. “While I agree this is a disturbing story, I'm afraid your viewers don't have all of the information on this.”_

_Jane looked surprised. “Senator, are you claiming that EarthGov knows what this is and hasn't made a comment about it?”_

_“That's exactly what I'm saying,” Redway confirmed. “The missing piece of this puzzle is the little known fact that EarthGov has known of the existence and location of this particular techno-mage for over a year now.”_

_“So it is a techno-mage?” Jane asked. “Many people on EarthNet are claiming that it's an elaborate prank using everyday technology in a creative enough way to perpetrate a hoax.”_

_Redway laughed. “Hardly, Jane. Can you bring up an image of the techno-mage?”_

_Behind him the screen shifted until a blurry image of Galen's face appeared._

_“Yeah, that's him,” Redway continued. “His name is Galen, and he's been running around wreaking all kinds of havoc on the_ Excalibur _'s mission to find a cure for the Drakh plague. All because Captain Gideon has convinced a select group of high ranking EarthGov officials that he's an asset to the mission. But I think we can all see exactly what kind of individual this is.”_

_Jane gave him a concerned look. “Are you suggesting that President Luchenko is one of these high ranking officials?”_

_Redway shrugged. “I wouldn't presume to say, Jane. But the way I see it, either she is and should be called to task for allowing this, or she's completely in the dark, which begs the question, why isn't she paying more attention to the mission she's repeatedly stated is her top priority?”_

_“Some people might say you're using this incident to slander your opponent in next month's election, Senator.”_

_“Then they'd be the ones slandering me,” Redway rebutted. “To be slander, it has to be false. Of course this makes the President look like she's not in control, but seems to me that's because she_ isn't  _in control.”_

_“Even if we accept that this is a real techno-mage and that he's been working with Captain Mathew Gideon on the_ Excalibur _, why are you assuming his actions have anything to do with the mission? For all you know he might be doing all of this without the knowledge or consent of Captain Gideon. After all, he does have more important things to do than worry about where a consultant on his crew might be at any given moment.”_

_“All fair questions,” Redway admitted. “And I'd be willing to give Captain Gideon the benefit of the doubt if the_ Excalibur _hadn't appeared in Mars orbit the same hour this little escapade happened. When he was supposed to be out on the Rim, searching some very promising leads provided to him by my office, he's days away, back here in orbit while his techno-mage rampages through the streets. A dozen people reported injuries due to his reckless behavior by the way.”_

_Jane put her hand up to her earpiece, listening to someone there. “We can confirm that the_ Excalibur _was indeed in orbit for a short time earlier today.”_

_Redway straightened up, really laying into it. “And the most damning evidence is that they left orbit within minutes of this, after Mars Orbital Relays show one of their shuttles coming up from the very area where the techno-mage ran wild. And what's their explanation? As of the time I sat down with you, no one in EarthGov, EarthForce or even the Interplanetary Alliance can get through to them. They seem to have gone into hiding.”_

_“Are you suggesting some kind of conspiracy, Senator?”_

_“i don't know if I'd go that far, but something doesn't smell right about this. What concerns me more than the techno-mage, who didn't end up doing anything more than cause a few minor injuries, is what the_ Excalibur _was doing here in the first place. From where I sit, there's no reason good enough to justify risking the lives of ten billion people back on Earth.  They're placing their trust in that ship and Gideon is abusing that trust.”_

_“I'm sorry, Senator. We're running out of time,” Jane told him. “Any last thoughts?”_

_“Just one. I've said it before and I'll say it again now. President Luchenko is doing the best job she can stuck behind that quarantine. But this is just the latest in a long string of potentially dangerous situations that are slipping through the cracks because of that isolation. I'm not blaming her. If she was out here, I firmly believe she'd be as effective as she'd proven herself during her first five years in office. But the next five years are either gonna spell disaster or salvation for the people of Earth, and you need a President who's out here getting his hands dirty. Under my leadership, I can promise you the search for a cure won't be sidelined every time Captain Gideon decides to play cowboy.”_

_Jane turned back to the main camera. “Thank you for that, Senator. Hopefully we'll be able to get a rebuttal from President Luchenko some time soon. Although I'm guessing the person everyone's going to want answers from is Captain Mathew Gideon of the_ Excalibur _._

_Coming up next, Proxima Three's continuing campaign to become the provisional head of EarthGov and how the upcoming election may effect their chances. We'll be back._


	4. Chapter 4

  _ **Excalibur** _

**Sector 139**  

Matheson sat alone in the captain's office...waiting. Waiting for what, he wasn't exactly sure. He'd violated every regulation on the books regarding his duties as first officer in the event of his captain's death. He'd hijacked the ship, convinced several fellow officers to commit treason, lied to the rest of the crew and was waiting to hear from a civilian as to what he should do next. Any way he looked at it, his career was already over. 

Upon leaving Mars, he'd followed Galen's advice and ordered a communications blackout. After that he'd needed a place to wait for Galen. Right now, the _Excalibur_ was in orbit around the third moon over a Jupiter-type gas giant. It was a dead system, virtually identical to hundreds of others and it was relatively close to Earth. There was a chance EarthForce would search these systems, but he'd stationed the ship far enough from the main jump point that short of a full planetary survey they should remain hidden. 

Of course, that was assuming that everyone on board would follow his orders to keep running silent. It had been less than a week since they'd found a spy that had been working for the rogue EarthForce base entrenched within the crew. Considering the resources at the group's disposal, Matheson knew there was a decent chance that he wasn't the only one. To stop from going stir crazy, he'd spent the last twelve hours since arriving here going over the files of every crew member with a fine tooth comb. He hadn't found anything yet, but these people were experts at staying hidden. Short of full telepathic scans on each person, there was no way to be 100% sure. 

The fact that scans were starting to sound like a reasonable idea caused him to reach over and deactivate the monitor. It had been over thirty-one hours since he'd last slept and it was starting to show. Part of him wanted to drop everything and go to Gwen's quarters, just for a small break. Ever since his encounter with the Apocalypse Box last month, the two of them had been growing closer. At first it had been a doctor/patient relationship, but it had rapidly evolved to something deeper than that. Although he'd wanted to be a normal EarthForce officer for as long as he could remember, there was something comforting about being in the company of another telepath. Especially one who like him had been a reluctant member of Psi Corps and had jumped at the chance to join EarthForce as soon as the Corps had been dissolved. 

Things hadn't grown to the point of a physical relationship, but at the very least he was starting to consider her a close friend and confidante. Being her superior officer, he wasn't so sure anything more was a good idea. On the other hand, while the new rules for telepaths made having any kind of intimate relationship a challenge at the best of times, they were far more lax when it came to two telepaths seeing each other. From their time together he got the impression she was open to it, but his experience with dating was virtually non-existent. Life within the Corps had made trust a difficult thing for him and since he'd gotten out he'd focused everything he had on his career. 

Well, the way things were going it's not like he'd have much of a career left after this. In some ways, maybe it would be for the best. 

Matheson rubbed his eyes, forcing those defeatist thoughts away. No, he couldn't go to see her, especially now. Too many people were involved in this little conspiracy already. Gwen had worked as hard as he had to get to where she was in her career and he wouldn't put that in jeopardy because he wanted a shoulder to cry on. His focus had to be on the here and now. Matt had been a good friend and one of EarthForce's best captains. He'd be damned if he'd let his death be for nothing. 

With a new sense of resolve, he turned the monitor back on and went back to staring at personnel files. The words were starting to run together and blur as his eyes grew heavier.  Just as he felt himself drift off, the door chime sounded, snapping them back open in an instant. Tapping the control panel beside him, he unsealed and opened the door. 

“You look like death,” Dureena told him as she strode in, resealing the door behind her. 

“Thanks,” he replied. “Have we heard from Galen?” 

She shook her head. “I don't know why you'd think I'd hear about that before you. It's not like Galen and I have some secret way of talking that no one else knows about.” 

“Sorry,” he said. “I'm just getting a little stressed sitting out here in the middle of nowhere. I just want this to be over.” 

“Be careful what you wish for,” Dureena said. “Odds are when this is over none of us are going to even be here anymore.” 

Matheson tried to give a reassuring smile. “I'm sure whoever the new captain is will want to keep you on board. You've proven yourself an asset to this mission dozens of times. Now me on the other hand...” 

“Are the best first officer in the fleet,” she said. “At least that's what Gideon said. Repeatedly. But you're right, I'm guessing you'll be gone too. And Galen. And probably Max.” 

“Okay, I can see Galen, but Eilerson is one of IPX's top people.” 

“Who is only on this mission because Gideon pushed for it,” Dureena reminded him. “And suffice it to say, his superiors aren't too happy at the lack of exploitable technologies he's been able to send back. And even if they were, considering that our adversary's power base is built on the exploitation of ancient, advanced technology, they're probably going to put someone on board who answers directly to them.” 

Matheson felt these new realities hit him like two ton weights as she spoke. While Dr. Chambers had been assigned by EarthGov, the rest of the senior staff had been brought together at Gideon's insistence. Who else would have assembled a crew made up of a telepath, a techno-mage, a thief and...whatever Eilerson was. He didn't doubt for a second they were the best team for the job, but from what he'd seen that wasn't how his superiors would look at it. They'd want people who played by the book...the politically acceptable people who'd look good to the public. Well, one thing was for sure, if Galen didn't come through with a miracle when he got here, the future of Earth looked pretty grim. 

“So, did you stop by just to depress me?” 

“No,” she said, reaching into a pouch hanging from her side. From it she pulled a data crystal and tossed it onto the desk. “Just fulfilling a promise.” 

Matheson picked it up and twisted it through his fingertips, as if he could will its contents out. “What is it?” 

Dureena walked up and took the seat opposite him. “Before Gideon went to that secret base, he came to see me. He told me that if anything happened, he needed me to break into his quarters and recover this for you.” 

“Why wouldn't he just give it to me?” 

“It's everything he's collected on his hunt for the ship that destroyed the _Cerberus_. In a worst case scenario, he didn't want his death to let these people get away with what they'd done. But, he wanted to protect your career, so by having me steal it I guess he hoped you'd have deniability.” 

“Yeah,” Matheson said. “That didn't quite work out the way he'd hoped.” 

“Maybe not,” she said, “but I thought he'd still want you to have it. Who knows, it could be useful considering what's going on.” 

“Did you look at what's on it?” 

She looked back at him, mildly offended. “I'm a thief, lieutenant, not a snoop. There is a difference. If there's something on there I should know you'll tell me.” 

Matheson felt ashamed at even making the implication. “Of course. Sorry. I appreciate this. I'll look it over right away.” 

Dureena got up to leave, then paused as she approached the door. “One more thing. I found the crystal in about a minute...Gideon wasn't as sneaky as he thought he was. But, he asked me to rummage through the place to make it obvious the crystal was stolen. While I was opening every drawer it obviously wasn't in, I came across a hidden compartment in the back of his closet.” 

Oh God no, Matheson thought. With everything else going on, he hadn't even given any thought to the Apocalypse Box. Gideon had described it as an ancient relic when Matheson had confronted him a month earlier during Dureena's kidnapping. But then something within the Box had taken control of Matheson's body, leaving him with the impression it was more of a life form than an artifact. Whatever it was, it was beyond dangerous. 

“You didn't open it, did you?” he asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice...and failing. 

“No,” she said. “I saw the chest inside and reached for it, but something about it nearly screamed 'Don't Touch'. I take it from your reaction you know what it is.” 

“I wouldn't go that far,” Matheson admitted. “But it is dangerous. Very dangerous. If you had opened it...well...I'm not sure what would have happened, but I don't think it would have been good. I'm sorry, I can't tell you anything else. At least not yet. I have to think about what to do with it now that...” 

“I understand,” Dureena said, and seemed to mean it. “But I wouldn't leave it where it is when we go back to your people. I'm guessing it's not something you want them to have.” 

“No,” he said. That was an understatement if ever there was one. That thing had led a good man like Matt down a dark road that had eventually gotten him killed. In the hands of someone without a conscience, it could be a dangerous weapon. He held up the data crystal. “Thanks for this though. I'll check it out now and let you know if anything useful is on it.” 

For a second she looked like she was going to press him on the Box, but instead she just nodded and left. Ejecting the personnel files out of the terminal, he slid the new crystal in. The Box. One more thing on his list of things to worry about. He pushed the thought away, deciding to focus again on the screen. Something told him by the time he was done reading this, that list would grow by a few more items.

 

* * * * *

 

**Syria Planum, Mars**  

Maximilian Eilerson paced around the upscale apartment, waiting for its occupant to arrive. Hopefully he'd succeeded in his attempt to surprise her, but only time would tell. Based on what he'd learned, he strongly suspected he didn't want her to know she had company waiting. Especially him. 

Upon leaving the others, he'd briefly considered going straight to the IPX corporate offices. The little voice in the back of his head that had successfully helped him to avoid a half dozen changes in their regime whispered that he didn't have enough information for that bold of a move. The part of him that had loyally worked his way through the corporation couldn't believe IPX would have anything to do with the cold blooded murder of the captain. The other part, the slightly larger one evidently, reminded him of all of the powerful artifacts and million year old texts that could have improved the lives of millions, yet were buried in a deep dark hole somewhere. The thing he'd once loved most about the company was the very thing that gave him pause now. There was no morality and no public approval...simply the acquisition of power and the almighty bottom line. 

So, while he'd like to think they'd draw the line at aiding and abetting murder, if the payoff was big enough there were at least a few in the upper echelons who wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over the decision. The great irony was he vividly remembered giving essentially the same speech to Gideon about three months ago in an attempt to show how the corporate mentality was superior to the military one. If IPX, or even a few of its more powerful members, actually had something to do with his murder, it would seem to prove the point in a very definite way. 

Rather than seeing it as a vindication though, it was causing him to reconsider his core values. This was not something he was happy about. It had taken him a great many years to find a place where he could excel. He hadn't embraced the values of IPX because he was some mindless lackey who only wanted to get ahead. They made sense to him...brought order to a chaotic universe. There was supposed to be a definitive line between corporate values and mafia values. Perhaps that was simply a pleasant fiction he'd allowed himself to believe to justify the policies that sometimes seemed to have no justification. Or perhaps there were just a few bad apples spoiling the rest of the barrel. Until he found which was the truth, he couldn't afford to trust anyone. 

Which was why he'd decided to go to his personal network of black market information brokers. Before he'd become one of IPX's shining stars, he'd had to find a way to stand out among the rampant nepotism and the sea of sycophants that constituted the hiring pool for the company. Yes, his genius level IQ gave him an edge, but he wasn't naive enough to think that would be enough. His family was middle class, while most of his competition would be from the crème de la crème. They could curry favor by funding the many projects and expeditions IPX had on the table. Max had been forced to be a little more creative. 

He'd been a risk taker, traversing the seedy underbelly of Martian society as if he'd been born to it. It seemed every board room deal needed something from the less than reputable members of the underground. Whether it be permits, blackmail or insider trading, virtually every person of influence he'd respected had used these people at one time or another. So, rather than slowly work his way up, then having to come here to stay afloat, he decided it made far more sense to build the foundation of his career here. By the time he'd graduated he knew more about the inner workings of the company than most of its senior management. He'd been able to write his own ticket since day one. 

Over the years he'd kept these contacts happy, slipping them profitable insider knowledge, hinting at which individuals they'd be wise to pay attention to and even smuggling the odd artifact or two to the collectors in the bunch. But he'd been away for nearly two years now. After a substantial amount of credits were transferred and a few nuggets of intelligence he'd been saving for a rainy day had been dispensed, he got what he came for. 

It was not what he'd wanted to see. 

No one person in his network had more than a piece or two of the puzzle...which was what had cost him so much time and money. However, after the seventh person he'd talked to, a pattern had begun to emerge. Since the plague, contracts with Earth had taken on a lesser importance.  The company needed to make certain it was well enough divested that if the worst happened it wouldn't impact their stock. That part he understood. It was good business and considering the amount of IPX stock he held, he was relieved to know it was in no danger of becoming devalued. What he hadn't expected was the number of hidden projects and secret accounts doing business with EarthForce's New Technologies Division. 

In the past that group had been one of the larger clients of the corporation. When one of IPX's scouting or dig teams found something that had military potential they allowed NTD first crack at it. New budgets were then sent through the Senate with hidden addendums that allowed them to divert vast payments from taxpayer money. For several decades it had been a mutually beneficial relationship that allowed NTD to benefit from advanced alien tech while saving them the time and expense of launching expeditions themselves. 

Now though, the relationship seemed to have changed. NTD was no longer simply purchasing artifacts from IPX, they were funding the missions directly. At first this didn't seem to make any sense. Why would they want to blindly pay to send teams to alien worlds, many of which wouldn't give them a return on their investment? And if they were changing their policy to do this, why go through IPX at all? EarthForce had resources far in advance of what IPX could generate. 

The second part became clear to him almost immediately. The first steps toward this new arrangement seemed to have begun during the Clark years. The would-be emperor of Earth wanted to build a personal power base, independent of the military. By funneling money into IPX, he could secretly launch expeditions without anyone outside of a very small circle being aware of it. Still, there were more financially beneficial ways to do this. Only after spending the better part of the day reviewing the more recent missions did a pattern begin to emerge. 

The worlds IPX was now going to were not random...or at least the ones NTD funded weren't. There appeared to be two separate divisions within the company now. The first was the one in which he participated. These were conducted as they always had been; scouting parties and probes finding likely profitable locations, then teams such as his own went in and searched for anything of value. But the others...they were clearly being directed. Somehow, NTD had gotten hold of a list of worlds where the kinds of technologies they were searching for could be found and they were using it to get teams their ahead of the other races. By keeping Eilerson's division active, no one suspected their ratio of successful acquisitions was well over eighty percent. 

Given what little the crew of the _Excalibur_ had found out about the Shadow-like vessel that had destroyed Gideon's ship nine years earlier, Max now had the sinking feeling he knew who had created it. It would explain why Earth military craft were defending the base where the homing signal sent by the ship had originated. NTD, or some division of them, had been using IPX to gather the knowledge they needed to engineer their own Shadow vessels. After that, the rest had fallen into place more quickly than he'd wanted. It was the curse of being a prodigy, of making the connections no one else could. And it hadn't taken him long to figure out who the most probable leak of Gideon's meeting with MarsGov was. 

Checking her itinerary, he'd found she was going to be unavailable for the next five hours, so he'd allowed himself a few hours sleep. With plenty of time to spare, he'd made his way to her apartment in one of the best neighborhoods under the dome. Being an upscale building, it's security was considered top of the line, but as much as he'd been cursing his genius earlier, it did have its upside. Dureena likely would have found a way inside within minutes, but he wasn't without skills of his own. After all, security systems were based on mathematical formulas, and what was math but another language. Narrowing down the number of digits used in the entry code had been child's play. And knowing its occupant as he did, determining the code that matched had taken him only two tries. 

He'd have to make certain to bring this up to Dureena at some point after things called down. Over the last year he'd grown a grudging appreciation for her skills, but most of the time the feeling did not seem to be mutual. He was fairly certain she saw him as only a member of the intellectual elite with no real world skills to speak of. She seemed to forget he'd been getting into locked and hidden chambers long before he'd met her. This would be a valuable lesson to her. After all, it never hurt to let a subordinate know that they could be replaced. 

While examining a delicate scroll preserved behind glass, he heard someone entering the code into the pad outside the door. Leaning casually against her couch, he presented a calm and confident demeanor as she stepped through the door.  Thankfully, she entered alone, and his presence seemed to catch her off guard. She jumped, dropping the pad she'd been carrying as the door automatically closed behind her. 

“Hello, Liz,” said Max. “Surprised to see me?” 

Dr. Elizabeth Trent, to her credit, turned her initial shock into a look of accepting familiarity. “Maximilian. I thought you'd left with the _Excalibur_. I just spent the whole day in meetings trying to piece together what the hell happened to you and your captain.” 

“I bet. Your plan wasn't as fool proof as you'd hoped, was it?” 

“What are you talking about? I was waiting for you just like we'd planned. You were the one who didn't show up. Gideon's pet techno-mage ran wild through the city, then the _Excalibur_ jumped away without a word. I spent the whole day smoothing things over with the MarsGov officials we were meeting.” 

“One think I always liked about you,” Max began, “was your ability to improvise. You pick a story, stick with it, then if contradictory information comes up later you seamlessly modify the story to fit in that one piece. That little skill got more than a few of my expeditions off the ground when there wasn't enough data to satisfy the budget committee. Now though, I don't find it quite as endearing.” 

Liz came up to him and took his hands in her own. “Whatever evil thing you seem convinced that I've done, why don't we sit down like two civilized people and talk it out.” 

He gently pulled back his hands. “Drop it, Liz. I know. Not everything, but enough. I know that the officials we were supposed to meet were in other meetings at the time they were supposedly waiting for us. I know a powerful group within EarthForce bought and paid for you years ago. And I know you told them where to find Gideon so they could silence him before he became a threat.” 

“You know less than you think,” she said, her loving facade slipping away in a heartbeat. “I'm not bought and paid for, they simply made me a better offer than IPX ever did. And if you knew anything about them, you wouldn't have gone digging around in their business. I saved you last time...this time you might not be so lucky.” 

“Saved me,” scoffed Max. “Are you trying to say I was a target as well? They don't seem the short sighted type to me. I didn't know enough to be dangerous. If anything, I'd imagine recruiting me would be quite a coup for them.” 

She laughed. “You really are oblivious sometimes, you know that Max? They did try to recruit you, years ago. You didn't want any part of a government agenda. Of course, you didn't know who they were at the time, but you made your loyalties clear. They dismissed you a long time ago, using your reputation and occasional archaeological finds to keep the public's attention off of the real objectives.” 

“You're slipping,” he retorted, holding up a finger. “You just gave a very good reason why they'd want to keep me alive. Shooting me down along with Gideon would have drawn unwanted attention to IPX.” 

“That's why you were going to die in an accident on some nameless world on the Rim. They need someone loyal to their cause on the _Excalibur_. The only reason that didn't happen originally was because Gideon insisted on having you. Wheels were already in motion after the plague was released to make certain they had some control over the mission to save the Earth. With him gone, the new captain could have you reassigned without raising any red flags and they'd have no reason to go with Plan A.” 

For one of the rare moments in his life, Eilerson was stunned into silence. He'd always prided himself at being the top of his field, an asset to whatever project he was assigned to. But if she was correct, he'd be the last person these black ops types would want on the front lines. By working directly with the more legitimate branches of EarthForce, they risked having a vital piece of technology presented to the wrong people. He could unravel their web of lies without ever realizing he'd done anything wrong. 

“Do you finally understand?” she asked, switching back to her kinder persona. “Maybe you'll never forgive me for this, but I did it to save your life. I was given an opportunity and I took it.” 

Something about her phrasing shook him out of his stupor. “It had always struck me as odd that EarthForce hadn't filled the xeno-archaeologist and linguist positions by the time the _Excalibur_ left Mars. I'd convinced myself it was fate putting me where I needed to be. But the truth was, they held the position open for you, isn't it? And our new captain, whoever he is, will transfer me out and put you in my place now that Gideon's gone. And all you had to do was set up a man to die.” 

“Don't make light of this,” she warned him. “Yes, they were waiting on me to get recalled from the Rim. Who better? I was loyal to their cause...the cause of Earth. And after discovering Thirdspace, I'd become the foremost expert on the technologies of the First Ones.” 

“Expert?” he scoffed. “John Sheridan and his merry band of rebels discovered Thirdspace. All you managed to do was incorrectly deduce what it was used for, get taken over by the aliens on the other side and kill your partner. Although seeing who the real you is underneath the undeniably pleasing outer shell, I have to ask myself if the aliens did take over your mind or if you saw a way to get ahead by taking out the competition.” 

She slapped him...hard. “How dare you!” 

“How dare I? Liz, you just had a man killed in order to secure your own position aboard the _Excalibur_. I'm not certain any more whether the justifications you've been spouting are things you believe, what you want me to believe or both. But whatever else you are, you are an intelligent woman. There were a hundred ways out of this, but you didn't want out. You sacrificed your morals for the sake of career advancement.” 

“I'm seriously getting _this_ lecture from the great Maximilian Eilerson?” she scoffed. “When it comes to sacrificing morals for career, you wrote the book.” 

“Maybe so,” he said, picking up his jacket from the couch, “but I at least know where the line is, even if I do cross it on occasion. I might have bended a few trade laws or dealt with the occasional black market broker, but I never traded anyone's life for a better office.” 

He turned his back on her, hoping his words stung as much as her betrayal had hurt him. True, their relationship had never progressed beyond the physical, but he'd believed he'd known her better than this. 

“I don't really care what you believe about me, Maximilian," she spat, not giving him the satisfaction of having the last word.  "But now you know who these people are and the lengths they're willing to go to get what they want. Tell the others to back down, or Gideon will only be the first casualty in a war you can't win.”


	5. Chapter 5

_**Excalibur** _

**Sector 139**  

Galen had just finished making the longest speech of his life. Having arrived on the _Excalibur_ a short time ago, he'd asked Lieutenant Matheson, Dureena and Dr. Chambers to meet him in the conference room. Upon sealing it for privacy, he'd then spent the last ten minutes telling them everything he'd pieced together in regards to their enemy. Looking upon their faces, he knew hearing the true depth of the conspiracy they now faced had shaken them all, albeit each for different reasons. 

Dureena was torn between empathy and rage. Learning that their enemy's technology relied on enslaving sentient beings as processors and components had brought much of her own past rushing back to her. When he had first come to understand the dark truth of how Shadow tech worked, his own reaction had been very similar. Though for her, the affront held a deeper personal connection. Having spent much of her youth as a slave, she understood the pain of these victims in a way neither he nor the others ever could.

For Matheson, the betrayal had hit closest to home when Galen had shown them the definitive connections to the highest levels of EarthForce.  In his eyes, EarthForce had always been the embodiment of the best humanity could offer. After being raised within the Psi Corps, which claimed to do the same, it had been a chance to be a part of something that wasn't tainted by exploiting the weak. Having showed them the files of Lee, Reneau and dozens of others that had been stored in Burell's database, Matheson once again had to face the grim reality that those he'd sworn an oath to serve were betraying the very ideals they espoused. 

True to her character, Dr. Chambers grabbed hold of the science to justify her own denial. After General Thompson had sent the _Excalibur_ to Theta 49, she'd become an expert on the bio-engineering that Black and his people had undergone in the Tarsier project. Given this, she'd been willing to accept that the little understood Shadow tech could force a persons body to work as a slave to the system. However given humanity's current level of technology, she couldn't believe that any Earth science could understand it enough to augment someone like Reneau. Even as the undeniable evidence was presented to her, her mind railed against it. A level of control like that could be instrumental in their understanding of the Drakh virus. If it were true...if EarthGov was keeping this secret...they were letting new people die every day as the virus mutated, all to keep their secret. 

As the seconds of silence dragged on, Galen could see all of this and more reflected in their eyes. While he personally had no trouble believing the worst about these factions within their government, he understood the betrayal all too well. He'd felt much the same when he'd learned of all that the Circle had kept from him. Coming to grips with it had taken years, and if he was quite honest with himself, the wounds had never fully healed. When that which you believe in most is shown to be built on a foundation of lies...it destroys a piece of your innocence which you can never reclaim.  Ironically, he'd tried to impart this very truth to Mathew only a few short days ago. 

Did he have the right to take more of their innocence away? On the flight here he'd convinced himself that they needed to know the truth, all of it, if they stood a chance against an enemy so deeply entrenched within Earth's government. Yet watching the shattered remains of his surrogate family trying to process what he'd already shared, he was beginning to second guess himself. What he'd revealed up to this point had been necessary, albeit painful revelations. What he'd planned to tell them next may just push them past the breaking point. 

Except...except it wasn't truly them he feared for. Two days earlier, when Mathew had learned much of this during his brief captivity, he'd been similarly shaken. But when Lee had told him the truth about the techno-mages he hadn't broken, he'd lashed out at Galen. And with good reason. What if the others did the same? He wanted to...no, he needed to help them. After what they'd done to Mathew, after the way things had ended between the two of them, he had to do something! So if holding back on the truth for a while longer gave him the chance to do so... 

No. He owed Mathew more than that. And he owed it to Dureena and the others. And seeing how the truth, or at least the truth as he understood it, had turned one of his friends against him already, Lee might very well try the same trick again. Elric had often warned him that his tendency to hide from the truth would cause him nothing but pain. Knowing that facing those same truths could cause him even greater pain had made it a lesson he still denied far more than he should. 

“There is one more thing I must tell you,” he forced out before he could rationalize another way around it. “It is a secret that has been held by my order for nearly a thousand years. If they should learn you know the truth, your own safety may be placed at great risk.” 

“I think we're past the point of playing it safe,” Matheson pointed out. 

Chambers shook her head. “I don't know. If everything you've already told us is true, we have enough problems to deal with right now without having your people coming after us too.” 

Dureena simply leaned forward, uncharacteristically quiet. After a year of waiting to hear anything about his people, he suspected she didn't want to say anything to cause him to reconsider. 

“It is a risk,” Galen admitted, “and if you wish to leave before I say anything further, I will respect your decision. However, our enemy has somehow learned at least a portion of this truth. By telling you now, it is my hope that I am taking away a weapon they may use to divide us in the future.” 

“They told Gideon,” Dureena guessed. 

Galen nodded. “Yes and it caused him to push me away at the time he needed me most. Perhaps if I'd told him the full, unabridged truth earlier, he would have seen things as they are, not as our enemy painted them. Or perhaps nothing would have changed. In either case, I'm certain he would have told you had he survived his visit to Mars, so I must honor that as well.” 

“Alright,” Chambers said at last. “In for a penny...” 

Dureena gave her an odd look, the human aphorism obviously not familiar to her. She didn't ask for clarification though, her eyes fixating back on him seconds later. 

“We were always taught our order began on the world of the Taratimude. They were a violent race, constantly at war with one another. In time a woman named Wierden created the first generations of our tech and gave it to those who like her, sought peace among their kind. Unfortunately, their efforts were not enough and the Taratimude were destroyed...except for Wierden and those she had chosen. In time they added other races to their order, implanting them with the tech that gave them powers so great they seemed as magic to the younger races.” 

“Okay,” Matheson said. “That's interesting, but I don't understand...” 

Galen raised a hand, cutting him off. “That is what we were taught. It is also a lie. Only our leaders, the Circle, knew of the truth. It was passed from one member to another throughout the ages, inviolate and punishable by death. Ten years ago, I learned this secret.” 

“Then you're a member of this Circle?” Chambers asked. 

Galen gave a short, involuntary laugh at the thought. “No. In fact when I learned this truth I was among the youngest of us, only a few short months after receiving my implants. We had heard rumors that the Shadows were returning after a thousand years of hiding. I was among those sent to investigate. The only one to survive.” 

Thoughts of Burell and Isabelle clouded his thoughts and he fought to push them away. There were things he must speak of, but some things still belonged to him alone. They needn't know of Isabelle...or Elizar, her murderer. The memory still overwhelming after all of these years, he took a moment to collect his thoughts. 

“What we learned, was that Wierden and her chosen few were not peacemakers who had failed to bring order to their world, they were the agents of chaos that brought about its destruction. Wierden had not created the tech, it had been given to her and the others by the Shadows to end their world and countless others.” 

As he spoke he locked eyes with Dureena. Of all of them, he knew this would be the hardest on her. It was a creation of the Shadows that had brought about the near extinction of her own race. To find out someone she was close to was another of these creations would be devastating. But...it wasn't. At first he thought it was shock or denial that held her rage in check, but his tech showed him she was having only the most mild of reactions to it. There was only one possible explanation. 

She knew! Somehow, somewhere, she'd already discovered this. It was the only thing that made any sense. But when...and how? She'd spent most of the last year asking him to show her the secrets of his powers, to make her a techno-mage. As much as he tried, he couldn't imagine her asking to be made an agent of the Shadows given her history with them. It must have happened recently. Perhaps during her kidnapping? Her claims of having no memory of that time must have been a lie...or at the very least she'd recovered them at some point and told no one. 

“You worked for the Shadows?” 

It was Matheson who broke his reverie. He'd have to come back to the Dureena issue, as much as he wanted to press it now. He could hardly demand an explanation from her while in the midst of admitting his own deceptions. 

“No,” Galen said at last. “The Taratimude worked for them for a time, but Wierden and a handful of others rebelled against their teachings. By then the Shadows had begun their thousand year hibernation and were in no position to enforce their will. Besides, the tech they'd given us urged those it was implanted in to chaos, so the servants that kept watch for them assumed in time we would turn back to their Masters' will. But the Code instituted by Wierden held. Their were disagreements and those who did rebel from the teachings of the Circle, but the majority stayed true to the Code. In time the origins of our order were buried, kept only by the Circle who needed to know where to get the tech, as only the Shadows and their minions knew of how it was created.” 

“You said your implants push you towards chaos,” Chambers said. “Are they tied into your brain directly or do they use chemicals to lower your inhibitions?” 

“It is...” he paused, “a complicated connection. In truth, we are only beginning to understand it ourselves.” 

“I'm guessing the Shadows weren't too happy with your people when they came back then,” Matheson said. 

“That would be an understatement,” Galen told him. “We were given an ultimatum, serve them or die. Many among us wished to fight them instead, but knowing the truth of our origins, the Circle ordered us into hiding instead.” 

“You still had the power to fight,” Dureena said, speaking up at last. “Even if they were your creators, if you truly wanted to, you could have stood against them.” 

Galen could see true anger within her as she spoke. Whether it was because she was learning pieces of new information or because she was finally able to openly speak of it, he couldn't say. Still, she deserved an answer. 

“Many argued as you are, but were overruled. The Code that redirected our energies from chaos was based upon solidarity. And in truth, self-preservation was a factor. Some in the Circle foolishly hoped if we stayed neutral in the conflict we could continue to receive the tech. Opposing them openly would forever close the door on this false hope and would mean that my generation would be the last of us. In time, we learned their was little we could have done in any case. As our creators, the Shadows had given themselves a way to deactivate our powers at the source. So, a group of techno-mages created a mass illusion, sacrificing their own lives to convince the Shadows we had all died. Then, we hid.” 

“I can understand why they'd want to keep this information secret,” Chambers admitted. “Aside from the fact that the Shadows are hated and feared by pretty much every race, the knowledge that you can be turned off...” 

“That is a part of it, yes,” Galen told her. 

“Alright,” Matheson said. “I can see why the captain would have been a little shocked by all this. I admit, I'm having some trouble wrapping my head around it too. But I can't believe he would have blamed you for any of that.” 

“Learning that techno-mages were based on the same technology that had killed so many of his friends was difficult for him,” Galen said, keeping an eye on Dureena's reaction as he spoke. “But you are correct. Major Lee told him we had gone into hiding to prevent his group from learning our secrets and that I was only on the _Excalibur_ now to use him to find out more about them.” 

“So he lied,” Matheson said. 

“Perhaps,” Galen responded. “Perhaps not. It is possible that Lee believed our flight was due to them. From their perspective, we are a group of mostly humans who are denying them the understanding we hold of Shadow tech. And while I may have persuaded Mathew of that fact...Lee was not altogether wrong about why I am here.” 

He forced himself to hold their gazes, despite what he saw there. It was the same look Mathew had given him, the look of people who knew they'd been used. He allowed it to sink in, unwilling to hide from the scorn he deserved. 

Dureena was the first to speak. “You used us! You led Gideon to these people and it got him killed. It'll probably get us all killed before this is done!” 

“It was the only way my people would allow me to leave the hiding place,” he tried to explain. “Even when the Drakh found the Death Cloud, they only reluctantly permitted me to warn Sheridan, and only if I could do so without leaving the hiding place. We went into hiding to avoid the Shadows, but the Drakh still knew many of our secrets, perhaps even how to render us powerless. The fiction of our death was all that protected them from the being targeted as the Earth was .” 

Matheson's eyes bored into him. “They put their own survival ahead of all those the Shadows killed. Ahead of Dureena's planet. They were even willing to let Earth die rather than come out and stand against the Drakh. What makes this group more dangerous than even the Shadows or the Drakh? Why would your people risk exposure to stop this particular group?” 

“It is not because they are more dangerous,” Galen revealed, “but because of their potential to become a danger to us. The Shadows and the Drakh both knew more about the creation of our tech than we did. This group of humans...they were learning more every day, studying the secrets of our creators. The Circle feared how much they'd already learned and needed to know if they were an enemy who could threaten our survival.” 

“Or an ally who could give you the secret behind creating more implants,” Dureena stated bluntly. 

Galen shot to his feet, anger overwhelming him. “I would never allow us to ally ourselves with them. Never!” 

Chambers put her hands up in front of her and spoke softly to calm him. “But based on what you've told us, can you honestly say that none of the other techno-mages are considering that?” 

“No,” he conceded after a moment. He sat back down, urging his tech's call to violence to wane. “Most would be as horrified as myself by the very idea. Yet the longer we fail to find a way to replicate the tech ourselves, the more desperate some have become. Perhaps my pleas to return to the world outside were finally successful for that reason. It was a mission that spoke not only to their fears, but to a chance at survival. Though I believe after my last report, fear will triumph.” 

“Do you think the other techno-mages will come out to fight them?” Matheson asked hopefully. “With their help, we could...” 

“No,” Galen said, cutting him off. “The ease with which their assassin, Reneau, stood against me on Mars has made it clear they are capable of harming us. They have a greater understanding of how to merge technology with living beings than even we do. I suspect that knowing this will drive them even deeper into hiding.” 

“And you?” Chambers asked, a look of worry etched on her face. 

“I will be recalled. Or rather, they will attempt to recall me. I will not leave until Mathew's killers are dealt with. If you would rather I take this stand away from here, I will understand.” He clasped his hands in front of him, awaiting their verdict. 

Matheson turned to Dureena, then Chambers. If Galen didn't know any better, he'd suspect he was using his telepathy to talk it over with them. But no, he would never break the rules for something so trivial. He was just getting a read on them before he made his call. After all, with Mathew gone, he was technically the captain. For now. 

“I can't say for sure,” Matheson began, “but I think if the captain had known the whole truth, he wouldn't have wanted you gone. But even if I'm wrong, we can't afford to lose you right now. Although it might be a moot point. The second I make contact with EarthGov, I'll be relieved of command. Even if they believe that the captain lived through the attack and ordered us here, the best case scenario is that they put one of their own people in charge.” 

“It wouldn't necessarily have to be one of their people,” Chambers said. “All they'd need is someone who shared their philosophy. Look at General Thompson. I doubt he's one of them, although he could be. I'm guessing he'd support what they're doing 100% if he found out. And since he's been officially tasked as our direct superior now, he'll be assigning our new captain. And you can bet it'll be someone who thinks the same way he does.” 

“From what I've seen of your government, I don't think we have much reason to expect anything else,” Dureena said. “I've met a lot of good people since I've been here, but that doesn't include your leaders. Every time they've had to choose between doing what's right and doing what's best for them, they've chosen themselves. Gideon was the exception to the rule. And after this, I guarantee they'll put someone with an Earth first mentality in command.” 

“I may have a way to stop that,” Galen said. “It's something of a long shot, but at this point, it may be our only hope.” 

“I'm open to pretty much anything,” Matheson said. “What do you have in mind?” 

“I think it's best you not know. At least for the time being,” Galen told him.

“More secrets!” Dureena spat. “I thought the whole point of your little confession was that there'd be no more secrets between us.” 

“We all still have our secrets,” Galen said pointedly. She must have realized he suspected something, because she backed right down. “If I fail, or even if I succeed, it is best that you know nothing of it. If we overplay our hand now, our enemies may well find a way to undermine my efforts.” 

“Alright,” Matheson agreed. “Since we don't have anything better, we'll trust you...for now. But I can't keep us in hiding forever.” 

“Give me twelve hours,” Galen said. “If you have heard nothing from me by then, act as you feel you must.” 

“Fair enough,” Matheson said. “Doctor, I'll need you to prepare a report showing that the captain survived, at least for a while.” 

“I've been working on that already,” Chambers said. “I also know a few tricks to make it look like a body has been dead for less time than it has. But to sell it, I'll need to have him autopsied by the time we go back to Mars.” 

Matheson seemed as uncomfortable with that thought as Galen was. Although they all accepted that Mathew was gone and not coming back, an autopsy held a note of finality. After that, there was no denying on any level it was just a shell, an empty vessel that had once held their friend. 

“Get to it,” Matheson said after a momentary pause. 

They all rose to leave. Dureena brushed past him and he took a few long strides to catch her, to try to get the truth out of her before any new walls rose between them. 

“Galen.” 

The call from Matheson stopped him. Galen considered telling him to wait, but Matheson had given him another chance. He couldn't treat it lightly, whatever other needs might be more pressing at the moment. He turned back to face him. 

“I know trust is hard to come by in these times,” Galen said, “but I swear I will do all I can to assist you. No matter the cost.” 

“I know,” Matheson said. “That's not why I asked you to stay. I just wanted to say I appreciate you trusting us with this. I was worried if I should be trusting you after the way you acted on Mars, but now that I know everything, I think I can. And as for the captain...he was keeping his own secrets. Actually, I may need your help with one of them before you leave. It's not something I want these people to get their hands on.” 

“ _What_ isn't something you want them to get their hands on, lieutenant?” 

Matheson hesitated, clearly not wanting to break his captain's trust, even in death. “It's this piece of ancient technology. It told him likely planets to search for the cure and led him to the ship that destroyed the _Cerberus_. I'd take it, but last time I got close to it, well, it took over my body. Or twisted my mind, I'm not sure...” 

Galen felt himself go cold. He'd known for some time that Mathew had been hiding something from him. He'd been aware of far too many things he shouldn't have been. “What does this technology look like?” 

Matheson held his hands a little over a foot apart. “It's a glowing chest about this big. He called it an Apocalypse Box. He said he...” 

The floor seemed to drop out from beneath him. Of all the theories he'd had, he'd never imagined... There had only been six and that was millennia ago. But if the stories were true... He reached out and forcefully grabbed the stunned telepath by the arms. 

“Take me to it. Take me to it, now!”


	6. Chapter 6

_**Excalibur** _

**Sector 139**  

After making a short detour past the flight deck to grab his staff, Galen approached Mathew's quarters at a near run. He had sent Matheson ahead to make certain the room had remained secure while he went to his ship. Galen's reaction to the Apocalypse Box had driven Matheson to the verge of an all out panic attack. Apparently his past encounter with the ancient device had been enough to instill a healthy sense of fear in the man. 

If only Mathew had been as wise. 

Standing before the door, he moved Matheson aside with a look. After peppering him with questions during their earlier bullet car ride, Mathew's ever loyal first officer had seemed to accept any answers would have to wait until after Galen had seen the Box. Even now he held his tongue, letting Galen do whatever he needed. 

With a thought Galen associated with his staff, feeling the echo of energy build back up inside him as it's full list of abilities appeared in his mind's eye. Though his own implants were powerful, the staff both magnified them and gave him a wider range of options in any given situation. And in this particular situation, he could not afford to make a single mistake. Tapping into it's sensors, he scanned beyond the closed door, searching for any field that might be triggered by his entrance. It was unlikely, as Dureena had moved all throughout the room earlier and received no reaction, but the powers of this device were as mystical to him as his own were to non-mages. 

Sensing the way was clear, he activated the panel, causing the door to slide open. He quickly strode inside, throwing a shield up into the opening behind him to prevent Matheson from following. It was unlikely, but if Galen's actions put him in distress, his instinct to help might override his good sense. To make certain there was no misunderstanding, he turned back to the door. 

“It is for your own protection. I cannot predict how it will react to my presence, and given its previous connection to you I do not wish to take any chances.” 

Matheson nodded, not seeming the least bit offended by his action. “I completely agree. The last thing we need right now is for me to be supercharged and take over the ship again.” 

“Are you absolutely certain Dureena had no interaction with it while she was in here earlier?” Galen asked. 

“That's what she told me,” Matheson replied. “She said it gave her a bad feeling and she wanted to stay as far away from it as possible. I can believe that.” 

“Yes,” he said absently, pacing the room with his staff extended before him. Like many dark objects, the Apocalypse Box seemed to induce strong reactions within the people near it. They were either warded away, like Matheson and apparently Dureena, or were compulsively drawn toward it, like Mathew. Over the years he'd been in the presence of a few objects of similar power. Only once had he felt the addictive pull and fortunately Elric had been nearby to stop him from forming a bond with it. 

“It's over there,” Matheson called out, forcing Galen to turn his head enough to see where he was pointing. It had hardly been a necessary direction. He'd been in Mathew's quarters only twice and neither time had suspected anything of this magnitude lay behind a thin hidden panel. In both instances he'd been consumed by the crises at hand, but that was a poor excuse for a trained mage. With the boost his staff gave him, he couldn't not feel it's primordial power oozing from around the hidden chamber. 

Moving no closer to it, he used a series a platforms and shields to slide back the false panel, pull the box out and set it on the desk. With another twist of his hand, he flipped the latch open, revealing the Apocalypse Box within for the first time. 

It pulsated with a sickly green/yellow light that more than anything reminded him of various Vorlon devices he'd seen. Although unless the legends surrounding the object were complete fabrications, the masters of order and obedience would have seen the glowing chest in the same way his order did, as an abomination. In fact, of the six known Apocalypse Boxes that had been passed down through the ages, two were said to have been destroyed by Vorlon attacks. No...he suspected he knew who had created them and the Vorlons were quite innocent. It was also one of the rare instances where the hands...or claws...of the Shadows were clean as well. 

Staring into it, he tried to figure out how to question it without speaking directly to it. With Mathew dead, it would be searching for a new victim and he had no intention of volunteering for the job. No one who had ever possessed an Apocalypse Box had come to anything but a brutal and early end. Clearly it was sensitive to telepathic powers, but no techno-mage had ever had that trait. The implants within them wouldn't allow it. 

Taking a chance, he visualized a blank screen in his mind and composed a message, as he would do when communicating with another mage. 

_Who are you? What do you want?_  

Receiving no response, he tried several other questions on the off chance it was the phrasing, not the method of communication causing problems. Though each time he transmitted a new message, he felt it drop off into nothing, likely not penetrating such a foreign system. What did he have that was similar to telepathy? 

Only one thing came to mind, but it could be as dangerous a posing a direct question. As an apprentice, Elric had taught him the art of creating an electron incantation, one of the few powers within the tech that had not been placed there by the Shadows. Since then he'd found with concentration and preparation he could bring non-mages into an incantation for a short time, although it was draining. 

His eyes remained locked on the chest, debating whether the risk was worth it. Even with all of his powers, he had no illusions that he was more powerful than something created by one of the First Ones. If it connected with him as its new owner, he would certainly face as grisly a death as those who had previously possessed it. Just like Mathew... 

Galen took a calming breath. Nothing would be solved by debating this to death. They were on a very strict timetable and didn't have much time to spend here. If it did connect to him, it wasn't as if he was living a life that made dying of old age very likely. And if what was said of the Box was true... 

Using his staff, he placed the strongest shield he could conjure between him and the Apocalypse Box. It wouldn't interfere with the electron incantation in any way, but perhaps a physical barrier might prevent it from forming the bond it needed. Then he pictured the rolling hills of Soom, the world where he'd been raised and trained as a techno-mage for so many years. His illusion built upon his memory of what had been, not what now was. Within the illssion, the house he and Elric shared was behind him, only a short distance away from Elric's place of power. He placed the homes of their former neighbor's on the horizon, though in reality they were not visible from here. Then again, in reality the entire area had been razed by Shadow ships and that wasn't a memory he wanted to relive. 

When the field, the sky, the clouds and the breeze were all in place, he sent the summons. Unlike when he'd sent the simple text messages, this time he felt an immediate response. A great tear appeared in the sky, spreading in all directions until the calming blue was replaced by an endless black void. The homes, fences then even the hills crumbled beneath his feet. Soon only his own body was visible to him, everything else he'd created fell away to make way for the void. 

He fought back a sense of growing panic. Was the Box claiming him? Was it destroying him? Was this an attack or simply the only scene the life trapped within could comprehend anymore? Finally he saw a pinprick of light in the distance. Hoping he still had the ability to manipulate this environment in any way, he visualized a platform beneath his feet and propelled himself toward it. At first it didn't seem to make any difference, but as he willed himself toward it ever faster, the small dot began to grow. As it grew larger, he could make out something inside of it, though not what it might be. So he pushed on. 

At last it was nearly as large as he was and he could see the ougline of a humanoid figure within it. Its back was turned to him and it seemed to be squatting near the ground, its head tucked between its legs. He burst through the barrier separating white from black, the force of it knocking him from his platform and hurling him head first into the light . Even though he could see no ground, its existence was impossible to deny as the pain of skidding across it overwhelmed him for a moment. The pain only lasted as long as it took Galen to remind himself that this wasn't his real body, only a projection. The other figure had raised his head, taking notice of the new arrival. Galen could only stare in numb disbelief. 

“Mathew?” 

Sure enough, it looked like Mathew Gideon...even wore an EarthForce uniform with his deceased friend's name tag on on his chest. Granted it was a uniform he hadn't seen Mathew wear since his earliest hidden observations nearly a decade before. Matheson hadn't been certain when Gideon had received the Box, but if this was any indication, it was while he'd been a lieutenant on board the _Hyperion_. Seeing him in the clothes of his younger self didn't completely sell the illusion however. The haunted look on his face made him seem far older than he'd been at the time of his death many years later. 

“Who are you?” the Gideon-wraith asked. 

Galen pulled himself to his knees, but kept his distance. For now, he decided it best to play along. “A friend. What's the last thing you remember?” 

“Being here, talking to...myself.” Gideon pulled his hands back through his hair, obviously distraught. “It's all so foggy. What happened to me?” 

Galen hesitated, unsure what to tell him. To the best of his knowledge, he was the only person to experience the inside of an Apocalypse Box...at least the only person not condemned by one. The legends contradicted each other, although there were definite similarities. They all seemed to agree that some part of the owner's soul became trapped by the Box, but what that part might be was open to debate. Some believed it pulled away a person's darkest impulses, in which case the being within would be the embodiment of whatever evil they'd had in life. Others believed the Box tore out its owner's soul piece by piece, until death was welcomed by the unwitting victim. 

In their search to know all that was knowable, techno-mages in every generation had studied the legends. One was said to have studied an Apocalypse Box in detail, although there was no proof of this beyond the word of his apprentice. Over time they had reached a consensus on the true nature of the Box, but like all the legends before their own, it was simply speculation. 

Galen had to know the truth. This being in front of him held something of Mathew within it, but how much he did not know. What could he say to lure the truth from him? He decided to start off vague and see where it led. 

“You came into contact with an artifact of enormous power and became trapped with in it. I'm here to try to free you.” 

Gideon shook his head fiercely. “No! You're lying! I remember the shot...and the pain. I felt my body die. You can't save me from death.” 

“What else do you recall?” Galen prodded. 

“Only pieces,” Gideon answered, eyeing Galen carefully. “Some things are crystal clear, but others... All I know for sure is that I died and somehow my spirit, or soul, or whatever, has been given a chance to help me change things. I remember I never much believed in this kind of thing, but now that it's happening, it's hard to deny. So if you really want to help me, _friend_ , help me clear up the details so maybe I can prevent this from happening in the first place.” 

Gideon had seemed to gain confidence as he spoke, rising to his full height. Galen rose as well, but stayed where he was, not wanting to risk what little progress he'd made. So, this echo remembered dying, but not the details. And based on the uniform, he remembered at least a few pieces from his life, but not Galen. Part of him couldn't help but be a little hurt by this. Over time, Mathew had become the most important person in Galen's life. To be forgotten, even if this was only a fragment of him, cut deep. 

“What leads you to believe you're in this place to change your past,” Galen asked, shoving his raw emotions down. 

“I told you,” Gideon said, “I've been talking to myself.” 

“I don't understand,” Galen told him. 

Gideon knelt back down. “If you can't even grasp something as simple as that, then you can't be here to help me. Go away.” 

He refused to give up that easily. He'd listened the last time that voice had told him to leave, and it had cost Mathew his life. It was a mistake he wouldn't repeat. “I may be able to help, if you do as I say.” 

“I said go away,” Gideon insisted. “I don't have time for this. I need to focus or I'm no good to...myself.” 

“I understand completely,” Galen said, though in reality that was far from true. “But my order knows things others do not. This environment, for example, can be changed by force of will.” 

Hoping he had at least some control here, he reached deep within himself, knowing in the real world his staff was eagerly echoing his every command. He was unable to change the backdrop where they stood, but he did manage to create something much like a Minbari hologram displayed in the air between them. In it he recreated the moment when they'd first met. Young Ensign Gideon hung in space, desperately calling for help. Above him, Galen's ship slowed and opened a hatch, letting him in. Ensign Gideon asked for his name, at which point Galen paused the scene. 

“Do you remember?” Galen asked. 

“Galen,” Gideon said, rising again. “You said your name was Galen.” 

“Yes.” A surge of hope rushed through Galen's mind. “And I am your friend. I can show you more, but first I need you to show me what you do remember.” 

“How?” 

He pointed toward the frozen image. “Concentrate on this area...and remember.” 

“That's all?” Gideon asked skeptically. 

Galen nodded. “That's all. What have you got to lose?” 

Gideon pursed his lips, then gave a half nod. “Good point.” 

Closing his eyes, Gideon seemed to be putting everything he had into the misshapen hologram. Galen's image faded from view and little by little it began to fill with a new form. 

The next thing Galen knew, he was on the floor, staring up at Gideon's concerned face. “Are you okay?” 

“I'm fine,” Galen lied. In truth he felt as if his head was going to explode. Or implode. Well, it wasn't going to stay in one piece at any rate. The blurred image had become a rush of every memory Gideon had in the space of a single second. He was still trying to sort through it all, but there was no longer any doubt in his mind. This wasn't a wraith or an echo. It wasn't a collection of dark impulses or even bits and pieces of a soul syphoned away over time. Against all odds, this _was_ Mathew Gideon. 

Above him, the sky ripped open again, although this time it wasn't the jagged tear he'd seen when he'd tried to create Soom. It was a straight line, growing wider as the sky swung open over their heads. What looked down at him a moment called his revelation from mere seconds ago into doubt. 

It was a face, albeit one that was the size of a planet. And like the specter standing beside him in this white void, it belonged to Mathew Gideon. The giant Gideon seemed to be staring right through them, as if they weren't even there. A moment later, his booming voice caused the white nothingness to ripple with its strength. 

“I've been given a new mission,” the giant began. “It's important. Ten billion innocent lives important. A plague has struck my world and I've been assigned to go back out to the Rim to search for a cure. In the past you've told me where to find some amazing places. I know with you there's a cost, but whatever it is, I'm willing to pay it. Do you know where I can find the cure?” 

Galen tried to speak, but found his voice had left him. He couldn't even move, and the attention of the Gideon he'd been talking to was now entirely focused on his over-sized doppelganger. 

“No,” the smaller Gideon said. From the giant's dejected reaction, he had somehow heard the response. 

“I figured it was a long shot,” the giant said, his massive hand reaching up to pull the sky closed again. 

The smaller Gideon waved his arms in the air. “Wait! I remember other things. Things that can help. Things that can save lives.” 

The giant's hand paused. “What things?” 

“Not yet,” the small Gideon said, clearly frustrated at his unreliable memories. “In time, I will help you.” 

“It's a start,” the giant said in acceptance, then slammed the sky closed again. 

Galen felt the rush of air come back to his lungs, his paralysis now broken. But the Gideon in here with him was staring at him in anger. 

“I don't have time for this!” he yelled. “Go away and let me concentrate.” 

With a wave of his arm, Galen felt himself being propelled away, back into the dark. As Gideon, then even the white void shrank back to a pinprick again, he turned his attention inward... 

...and was standing before the Box in Mathew's quarters. At the door, Matheson was pressed up against the shield, as if trying to find a way past it. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You were out for almost ten minutes.” 

Using his staff to steady himself, he projected his voice with as much force as he could muster. 

“Contact Dr. Chambers immediately. She must place Mathew's body into stasis before its too late.” 

“Too late for what, Galen? We need to prepare his body if our story...” 

“Our story must change,” Galen interrupted. “Contact her now, before what slim chance we have to save him is gone forever.”

 

* * * * *

 

“Would somebody like to explain what the hell is going on?” 

All Matheson could do was give Dr. Chambers a sympathetic look. After leaving the captain's quarters, Galen had demanded that he contact medbay and have Chambers stop whatever steps she'd already taken in Gideon's autopsy. Then, she was to take his body and place it in a cryogenic chamber immediately. The _Excalibur_ carried a small handful of the tubes in case someone was injured in a way that wasn't treatable on the ship, but could be at a larger station or colony with greater resources. Although what purpose placing a body already dead for nearly a full day into one might serve was beyond him. 

Matheson was certain it had something to do with the Apocalypse Box. From his perspective, Galen had simply circled the thing, then had gone into some kind of trance for the better part of ten minutes. At first he'd assumed that Galen had been scanning it using that staff he was carrying, but he hadn't responded to any of Matheson's questions during that time. What it most resembled was some kind of telepathic communication. During his time in the Psi Corps, he'd both seen and been part of many training sessions that took place solely between the minds of two or more telepaths. From the outside, any mundane would think those involved were having an intense staring contest. 

But to the best of his knowledge, Galen wasn't a telepath. Not that it wasn't possible that he was a teep and had been keeping it from them, but he couldn't bring himself to believe that. No, Galen wasn't telepathic, but from his experience with the Box weeks earlier, it obviously had at least some small telepathic component to it. His memory of that whole encounter was shaky at best, but he vividly remembered the foreign presence pushing his consciousness off to the side. He'd been watching Galen for behavior similar to what he'd exhibited back then, but the techno-mage seemed to be in control still. At least his eyes weren't glowing, which he was taking as a very good sign. 

Chambers had questioned what good it would do to put Gideon into stasis...as any sane person would. He'd followed Galen's lead and told her they were on their way and would explain everything when they got to medbay. A small ember of hope still burned in the back of his mind that maybe, somehow, he could be resurrected. And he figured at worst, if Galen was wrong, he'd asked Chambers to waste a few minutes of her time. Given what might be at stake, taking the chance cost them virtually nothing. 

Galen was sizing up the medical technicians moving around the various labs. Matheson took a cue from him and did the same. They all seemed to be engrossed in their work, but several were sneaking what they probably figured were subtle glances at the three of them. The odds were it was normal, healthy curiosity. After all, they were well off their mission schedule, no one had seen the captain for days and the ship was running silent in an essentially dead sector of space. He'd find it more suspicious if they weren't curious. But it had only been a few days since they'd found a spy among the crew, and _someone_ had leaked the captain's position to the rogue EarthForce group. 

Better safe than sorry, Matheson nodded toward Chambers private office. The three of them walked in and Matheson sealed the entrance behind them. With a flourish, Galen then waved his staff over the door and windows, covering them with some kind of opaque energy field. 

“We may speak freely,” Galen told them. 

“Then somebody speak,” Chambers said with growing irritation. “I'd just finished synthesizing the first chemicals I needed to alter time of death when you called. Stasis leaves its own telltale signs on the cells, which might interfere with the process.” 

“You did place him in stasis?” Galen urgently asked her. 

“Yes, I figured you had your reasons. But if I leave the body in there much longer, no one is going to buy our story.” 

Galen let out a relieved sigh. “That no longer matters. Some new information has come to light which necessitates a slight change in tactics. The story will suffice and proof will no longer be an issue. I'll be taking Mathew with me.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Matheson said, putting his hands up. “What do you mean you're taking his body? What did you find out from that Box?” 

Chambers' head bobbed between them, utterly confused. “Hold on. I'm a few steps behind here. Why would you want Gideon's body? And what box are you talking about?” 

Matheson took a deep breath. “It's called an Apocalypse Box. Or at least that's what the captain told me. I don't know the whole story, but he won it in a card game shortly after the _Cerberus_ was destroyed. It's some kind of artifact, millions of years old, that predicts the future.” 

“A fortune telling box.” Her tone made it clear she was humoring him...barely. “I would think if he had something like that he wouldn't have had so many gambling debts.” 

“The lieutenant speaks the truth,” Galen cut in. “Although it is not strictly speaking a fortune teller. If Mathew had asked the Apocalypse Box about those games, and it had wanted him to win, he would have.” 

“So there is something living inside it,” Matheson reasoned. It wasn't exactly a surprise. The thing had possessed him after all. 

Galen nodded. “My order has studied them for some time and tracked their most likely point of origin. We believe that the Box was built as a vessel by a race of First Ones known simply as The Hand. To the best of our knowledge, only six were made, one for the ruler of each race that had sworn allegiance to them. They were given as a reward and an incentive for their service. They would tell you everything you truly wished to know,a grand motivator for those seeking power. What the Hand failed to mention, was that they would also lead to the deaths of their owners, without exception.” 

“So you think that thing killed the captain?” Matheson asked. 

“That's nothing but superstition,” Chambers interrupted. “We know what killed him. Multiple projectiles through his chest and abdomen. Some mystical box didn't will him dead. A group of powerful, dangerous men and women did.” 

“And how did Mathew become involved with these men?” Galen asked. Not waiting for an answer, he pressed on. “Without the Apocalypse Box, he never would have found the ship that destroyed the _Cerberus_. If he had never found that ship, he would never have had a homing signal to track and right now we would be out on the Rim, still searching for the cure.” 

“Okay, if...and I'm stressing if....that box told him where to find that killer ship back in September, that doesn't make it cursed. It was a source of information. He still decided to ask it about the ship and what to do once it was found. He made the decision to track the homing beacon, to go to the base, to infiltrate it with you and to report it to MarsDome. Some box didn't force him to do any of it. He did it because that's who he was.” 

Matheson couldn't help but respect the well reasoned argument. But she was missing some key information. “It's also how I knew where Dureena was.” 

“That's the artifact that you used? The one that almost killed you?” She paused. “Alright, I'll concede it has access to information it shouldn't know. But that still doesn't make it cursed.” 

“I felt it inside of me,” Matheson confessed. The memory sent shivers down his spine. Not the possession itself per se, but having his own consciousness pushed aside and his body taken over by something else was not something he could ever forget. “I don't remember everything, but I remember enough. It had a strong, focused will. It was determined to do what it wanted to and didn't care one bit about the consequences.” 

“That's not exactly true,” Galen finally interjected. “I suspect he simply knew that no one would be injured and acted with the precise force necessary to achieve his goals. In this instance, to rescue Dureena.” 

“Wait, you said him, not it,” Chamber said. 

“Oh, did I fail to mention that the entity contained within the Apocalypse Box is Mathew Gideon?” 

Matheson's head was spinning at the very idea. “No, that's not possible. When it took over my body, the captain led the team trying to stop me. He couldn't have been in the Box.” 

“The Apocalypse Box is a creation of the First Ones,” Galen pointed out. “To expect it to behave according to the laws of nature as we understand them is a misconception. You see, that was both the gift and the curse of their gift. At the moment of death, the soul...for lack of a better word... is pulled out of its owner and into the artifact. Once there, it exists in a temporal limbo, stretching back to the moment it was first bonded to the Box. It knows everything it is asked not out of some form of premonition, but because the person inside has already lived those events.” 

“That makes no sense at all, Galen,” Chambers said. “You're saying the Box knew about that killer ship because the captain remembered when and where to find it. But the only reason he knew was because the Box told him about it in the first place. It's circular logic. Where did the knowledge come from in the first place?” 

Galen gave her a small smile. “Temporal mechanics by its very nature is filled with contradictions. I don't claim to understand it any more than you, but that doesn't stop it from being the truth. You must remember that The Hand and other First Ones evolved into energy eons before the first single celled organisms appeared on Earth. Although a quote from a human is quite apt in this instance: Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” 

A thought struck Matheson. “If that were true, why didn't he change things? I mean, I assume he remembers dying on Mars, right? Why wouldn't he warn himself? Or set himself on a different path?” 

“A question I often asked myself when studying the history of the Boxes,” Galen admitted. “In Mathew's quarters just now, I communicated with him inside of the Box. He was confused, his memory full of gaps. I even watched him speak to his younger self, questioning it about possible destinations for a cure. The Gideon trapped in the Apocalypse Box is desperate to remember, believing he's been given a chance to change the course of his life, though not remembering enough to realize that the Box has already guided him down this path.” 

Matheson still couldn't accept it. What he'd felt take over his body couldn't have been the captain. Could it? It hadn't hurt anyone and had made sure to keep the ship as safe as possible. But their were still holes in Galen's explanation. 

“When he told me about the Box, he said that the last owner warned him that it sometimes lied, although he hadn't noticed it yet. The man was a gambler who lost everything because of the Box. If what you're saying is true, then when he owned the Box, it was him inside. Why would he do that to himself?” 

“Not knowing the man I could only hazard a guess,” Galen said. “If he was in a state similar to the one I just found Mathew in, perhaps all he could remember was that gambling caused his downfall. By lying to his past self, perhaps he hoped to discourage him from continuing down that path, not realizing those very lies were what made gambling his downfall. The version of the individual inside of the Box treats its owner in exactly the way the person believes they should be treated at the moment of their death.” 

“Even if that's true, that still doesn't necessarily make it cursed,” Chambers said. “I'm sure there were some people along the way who guided themselves wisely.” 

“From what my order learned, one of two things always occurred. The first, was how Mathew explained the fate of the last owner to you. For some reason the Box's current owner loses possession of it. At that point, the individual is compelled to kill themselves so as to complete the circle and allow the Box to clear it's interior for its new owner. The second is what happened to Mathew. Instead of taking life's natural course to gain knowledge, wealth or power, they simply hand it over to their past selves. This inevitably sets up a chain of events putting the individual in over their heads and leading to their downfall.” 

“Alright,” Chambers said. “This is all interesting, but what does any of this have to do with his body? Even if we believe that his memories, or soul, or whatever, are trapped in that Box, his body is far beyond saving. Rigor mortis has set in, making his organs non-viable. His brain has been without oxygen for so long that even if you could use a telepath to transfer his mind into it, the brain damage would be too extensive.” 

That small ember of hope sparked into a flame within Matheson's chest. “You know of a way, don't you? You wouldn't have had her put him in stasis for no reason. The techno-mages can reverse the damage!” 

Galen lowered his eyes to the floor, a haunted expression overtaking his features. “No, I'm afraid not. Although we have healing techniques for our own kind that can help extend life, even we cannot reverse death.” 

“Then what's this been for,” he shouted. He generally wasn't one to lose his temper, but the ups and downs of this conversation, on top of the events from the past few days were taking their toll. 

“Because the same tomes which taught me the history of the Apocalypse Boxes also spoke of hundreds of other creations of the First Ones. The ability to clone a new body in a matter of hours using certain organs and material of the deceased. The regeneration of necrotic tissue. The transfer of one mind to a compatible donor. All of these things and more have been lost to the ages. But they are lost on the same worlds the _Excalibur_ now explores for the same reason...to find the secrets of the First Ones. Without his consciousness, his body was useless to us. Now, I have the essence of Mathew Gideon contained within a stasis shield. I will prevent any other from interacting with the Box until I find a way to transfer it into a living vessel. We can bring him back.” 

“This sounds an awful lot like wishful thinking to me,” Chambers softly said. 

“So what if it is?” Galen asked. “If I am mistaken, you have lost nothing except one easily replaced cryo-tube. You are already committed to searching each world you visit for curative technologies, so no resources are being diverted from the larger mission.” 

Shock and hope battled within Matheson. “But how do we explain his body being missing?” 

“Only the three of us, Dureena and Mr. Eilerson know of his death,” Galen reminded him. “After the events that played out on Mars, our enemies have certainly monopolized on that footage in an attempt to have me taken into custody. Now, instead of altering a body, the good doctor must only alter her files to show his injuries were severe enough to require stasis. Then, when you contact your government, lieutenant, you will report for reasons you cannot explain, I have absconded with the tube. Should we be successful, it will appear as if I simply provided the medical intervention necessary to save his life.” 

“It will make things simpler,” Chambers admitted. “But you won't be able to come back. Probably not even with the captain alive and well. This is a line you can't uncross.” 

“That line is already far behind me,” Galen said. “Nor is it the first I have crossed in my life, or the last.” 

“Alright,” Matheson said. “If we go along with this, how long will you need to get away?” 

Galen gave a short laugh. “If you contacted them now, it would be enough time. Remember, we still have the not insignificant issue of a new captain to consider. I have already begun my preparations, but it may still take time. Twelve hours should be sufficient to prepare the necessary documentation to corroborate our story. If I have not contacted you before then, you must act as you see fit.” 

Matheson mutely nodded and watched as Galen disengaged his energy field and went back to the stasis room with Dr. Chambers. When he'd first heard about their mission to find a cure by digging through ancient ruins, he'd thought it was the longest long shot in the history of the human race. Well, now it had fallen to a distant second.


	7. Chapter 7

**Interstellar Alliance Headquarters**

**Tuzenor, Minbar**  

President John Sheridan needed a vacation. Of course, Delenn had been telling him that since long before they'd been married, but he always seemed to find an excuse to put it off. And the hell of it was, they were all damned good excuses. There always seemed to be a new war or crisis that required his immediate attention before they spiraled into something even worse. Every time he thought things were settling down, something new would threaten the fragile peace they'd managed to forge with the Alliance. 

Entering his bedroom in the capitol building on Minbar, he eased himself onto the bed, feeling the stress and lack of sleep through every inch of his body. For a brief second he considered slipping his shoes off, knowing how Delenn felt about having them in the bed, then decided against it. She'd left for the Ipshati homeworld this morning and wouldn't be back for several days. The house staff would change the sheets out by then. Plus, bending over to remove them would require more energy than he had left. 

As he laid back into the pillows, he couldn't help but mentally kick himself for his optimism before she'd left. After nearly three years of watching The Hand claw their way back into the galaxy, the Rangers had finally dealt them a crippling blow. The crew of the _Liandra_ had discovered that the crux of their plan had involved the Ipshati, a former Interstellar Alliance member who'd only joined to give the Hand a foothold within the ranks of their greatest enemy. They'd been found out early on, becoming only the second government to leave the Alliance since its creation. Since then the Rangers had kept a watchful eye on the planet, but most concluded they were merely one minor player in the Hand's overall plan. Everyone except the crew of the _Liandra_. 

Going against the orders of their superiors, they'd infiltrated the Ipshati homeworld and learned the Hand had been transforming one of their moons into a massive device capable of transporting them from whatever space or dimension held them now directly into the Ipshati system. It had taken some convincing, but the _Liandra_ 's captain had managed to talk a handful of his fellow Ranger captains into launching an attack to stop them. It had been a heated battle, the Rangers versus the allies of the Hand, and at the end it looked like the good guys were gonna lose. But once again proving themselves, the _Liandra_ had managed to slip behind enemy lines long enough to get some people onto the base.  Robbing it of a vital component, they'd ended up shattering the moon even as the Hand had been passing through the vortex connecting their realm to ours. 

The devastation of the moon had been an ecological disaster for the Ipshati. Delenn, as usual, had decided to show compassion to their former enemy, leading a contingent of relief ships to aid in the disaster. Politically it was risky, but bringing the Ipshati back into the Alliance, this time as a loyal member, could play out well for them. Not that her decision was based at all on politics. Delenn couldn't just sit by while innocent civilians and children suffered and do nothing. It was one of the things he loved most about her. 

The Hand was still out there, but they'd spent years setting up this plan. The Alliance would have to remain vigilant, but for now they should get a reprieve from a conflict that had cost them more than a few good ships and crews. And in a twist of good fortune, the component stolen from the weapon could be tied into a jump drive to propel the ship into a realm moving at least twice as fast as traditional hyperspace. It was apparently extremely disorienting to use, but the ability to outpace anyone traveling through hyperspace was a tactical advantage that would give the Rangers even more of an edge. 

Of course, he'd never be able to admit where he got it from. Sheridan had spent years making it clear that taking technology from the Hand was a violation of each world's Alliance membership. After the Ipshati, he couldn't afford to have any race trading their allegiance for advanced technologies. As the last known race of First Ones within reach, they had a lot of advancements over the younger races. They had enough trouble with leftover Shadow and Vorlon tech as it was without adding the Hand into the mix. 

So they'd just have to say they got it from Vorlons and it had taken them a while to work out the kinks. The other races were already comfortable with the Rangers using Vorlon technologies in the Whitestars so they wouldn't object too much. But if the truth ever came out there would be hell to pay. Anyone with half a brain could see the difference between working for the Hand in exchange for tech and getting it during a raid to stop their invasion force. But common sense and politics rarely met. 

After a sleepless week imagining the casualties in a new war against the First Ones, he finally should have gotten a break. Delenn had convinced him to stay on Minbar for some long delayed father/son time while she dealt with the Ipshati. And for a brief moment after her ship had taken off, he'd allowed optimism to sneak in again. Less than ten minutes later he'd been informed that a techno-mage was terrorizing Mars and that the _Excalibur_ may have gone rogue. He'd spent the rest of the day trying to track down either Galen or the _Excalibur_ , but everyone had hit a wall until some new information came in. 

He closed his eyes, knowing that sleep would come quickly...which was a good thing since he'd probably be woken up long before morning came. He felt his consciousness slipping away before he could even think to reach for the light... 

...and found himself in the cockpit of a starfury. It had been years since he'd been behind the canopy and felt space beneath him. Just him, the controls and the vastness of space. It was exactly what he needed right now. 

Another ship blew past him, passing so close he jerked the stick to avoid a collision. As he reoriented the fighter, he craned his neck to see who the reckless pilot was who'd nearly killed him. He felt his heart climb into his throat when his eyes met the shimmering black of a Shadow ship's hull. 

It was a design he'd never seen before, yet unmistakably Shadow in origin. The front end was a like a beak, rising up from the main body then arcing down into a point. Under it was its most defining feature, a series of tendril-like spikes jutting out from either side. What caught his eye most though were the wings that rose up from the aft section. There was a splash of color that he'd never seen on a Shadow vessel before. They'd never felt the need to decorate their crafts in any way. 

Squinting his eyes he risked maneuvering his starfury a little closer so he could make out the markings. Once he did he squeezed his eyes closed, refusing to accept what he was seeing. With a deep breath, he told himself it had been an optical illusion and forced his eyes open again. But it was still there, an image he associated with being home. The Spartan helmet in front of a trident, overlaid onto a blue oval outlined in yellow. Underneath was a smaller circle with a single character in it, the letter A. It was the seal of the _Agamemnon_. 

“No,” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off of it. 

Suddenly another ship cut between him and the Shadow _Agamemnon_. Then another, and another, until he was in the center of a fleet of identically shaped vessels. Unable to stop himself, he searched the wings of the new arrivals, finding similar seals on each. Many were too far away, but he could just make out the _Churchill_ , _Heracles_ , _Alexander_ , _Charon_...the list went on and on. 

“This isn't real,” he told himself. “It's a dream...a nightmare.” 

Up ahead he saw the flash of weapons fire and for the first time noticed the Shadow/Earth fleet was approaching another. This one was made up of ships he immediately recognized. Whitestars, Minbari, Narn, Drazi, Abbai and many others. Every member of the Interstellar Alliance was represented. Every member except Earth. 

A Shadow scream broke through the comm channel. Other starfuries moved into formation around him, but like the “Earth” ships, they were wrong. Though clearly inspired by starfury design, where their thrusters should be were now curved spears, each dotted with smaller tendrils. Like the larger ships, they were also covered in Shadow skin rather than metal. Filled with sick dread, he turned his head to see the rear of his own ship. As he'd feared, he wasn't piloting a starfury, but one of the abominations that were around him. 

Then the battle was joined. The “Earth” ships swooped through the Alliance lines, slicing through their hulls with the purple cutting beams he'd hoped to never see again. The Alliance was getting in a few good shots, but it was clear they were out-matched by the Shadow inspired fleet. Seeing his squadron banking toward a Whitestar, he slammed his thrusters back, dropping to the rear of the formation. 

“Like hell,” he said, letting loose a stream of purple energy that took out two starfury hybrids in an instant. 

Before he could lock onto a third, his own ship shook as it took a glancing blow from behind. Slamming into a 180 degree spin, Sheridan faced his attacker. One of the larger ships was bearing down on him, it's beaked tip glowing menacingly. As it fired, the last thing he saw was the emblem of the _Agamemnon_ on its wing as he was engulfed in flames... 

...and sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat, still feeling the flames on his skin. He instinctively checked his arms for burns, but found them completely unharmed. 

“What the hell was that,” he muttered. 

He looked over to see what time it was, but something was wrong. There was no clock on the nightstand where there should be. In fact, there was no nightstand. This was not his bed or his room. In fact, it looked more like one of the slum rooms he'd seen during the food riots on Mars back in '51. The desk across from him was actually a broken door panel set up on what looked like cinder blocks. The furniture behind it was stained and full of holes. Feeling a breeze on his back he rolled over. Where the outer wall should have been was now a gaping hole to the world outside. The sky was black and the stars were still visible, but the slightest hint of the coming dawn could be made out on the horizon. 

As he swung his legs out of the bed, he tried to piece together just what the hell was happening to him. He'd just been blown up in a mutant starfury, he vividly remembered that much. And before that...before that he'd gone to bed on Minbar. There was no way this could be a dream though. He'd had some vivid dreams in his life, but nothing that compared to this. No...someone was playing with his head. It could be one of the fugitive Psi Corps members, or maybe one of Clark's accomplices using a drug cocktail like the time they'd captured him. Those had been some vivid hallucinations. 

Some movement through the shattered wall caught his eye and he made his way over to it. The domed building to his right immediately caught his eye. If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn it was EarthForce Academy where he'd first started the winding...and pockmarked... road that was his career. On a hunch he looked to the left, where a towering building seemed to almost touch the clouds. The IPX Tower, the largest building on Earth. 

Sheridan tried not to panic. “It's just a dream. I'm not really here.” 

It had to be a dream. Or a hallucination. Because if he was really here, then he was infected with the Drakh plague. Delenn was already struggling to hide her fear with his impending death being another dozen years away. If that number was knocked down to four or five years...he couldn't bear to think about it. 

He turned back to the Academy building, a place where he'd found peace for a time. The place that had given him a purpose in life and led him to where he was now. A group of people were now outside, moving in some kind of formation. They were probably cadets, out for morning maneuvers. As they fluidly moved as one, he could almost hear old Sergeant Slaughter shouting out commands. 

But as the sun broke fully over the horizon, something seemed to be a little off about the scene. Well, more off than his inexplicably being here in the first place. He squinted against the blinding rays, then noticed what was wrong. There was no sound, no morning traffic or people just getting home from night shifts or parties. He'd spent years here and in all that time, quiet had never been a word he associated with it. Having grown up in the suburbs, it had taken him some time to get used to the constant activity still going on while he slept. Now though, there was an eerie silence that left an empty feeling in the center of his chest. 

He slapped his hand against the broken edge of the wall...hard. He felt the impact, but heard nothing beyond a barely audible thump. Looking to where is hand lay, he jerked it back in horror. The wall he'd hit was not plaster and wood as he'd assumed in the darkness, but was covered by the sickening black of Shadow skin. He started to back-peddle away from it, but stumbled to a stop when his eyes hit the IPX Tower again. 

With the sun now fully above the horizon, he could make out all the details he'd missed before. More accurately, he could make out the lack of details. Like the wall of this place, the IPX Tower was covered in Shadow skin. He scanned the city, but every building had the same black covering them. The shapes were just as he remembered them, but it was as if someone had laid a giant black sheet over each of them. Even the Academy dome was covered, now completely opaque instead of the clear glass of his youth. And the cadets... 

“Oh, God, no,” he gasped. 

They weren't cadets moving in formation. They were human shaped monstrosities, covered in the same black coating. Their moves weren't those of choreographed individuals. They were more like the limbs of a giant organism, oozing from place to place. 

“Welcome to your future.” 

The booming voice behind him made him jump, losing his balance at the edge of the floor. A hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him back in. Sheridan put his hands up, preparing to attack if necessary. Anger like he hadn't felt in some time welled up in him when he saw the face of his savior. 

“Galen, I should have known it was you.” 

“Yes,” the techno-mage replied. “I would have thought that I'd be your first guess given our experience a year ago. I suppose I'm not as memorable as I'd like to believe. Are you going to strike me or can we get on with this?” 

“Don't tempt me,” he said, relaxing his hands with some effort. “What the hell is all of this? The plague couldn't have mutated in this amount of time. And not in this way.” 

“You are quite correct. This has nothing to do with the plague, Mr. President. Although in a way it is about a sickness. A cancer dug deep into the marrow of Earth, killing all that is good as it grows.” 

Sheridan carefully moved back toward the opening. “Then none of this is real.” He said it as a statement, letting the relief of that confirmation calm him again. 

“Oh, it's quite real,” Galen told him. “This is the future that awaits your world if steps are not taken to undermine those invested in this outcome.” 

“Who would want this?” he asked, turning away from the sickening sight. “The Drakh?” 

Galen faced him, eye to eye. “No, its nothing as simple as an outside force bent on the destruction of humanity. This will come about because those who live in fear of such attacks believe they must do whatever is necessary to protect themselves. Even if that protection changes them into this.” 

“No. Shadow tech is too dangerous to experiment with,” Sheridan said. “That's why the Alliance banned its use.” 

“Do you truly believe that will stop those who have seen it's potential? Such fears certainly didn't stop President Clark from creating an entire fleet using it,” Galen pointed out. 

The thought of Galen using _that_ fleet of all things angered him all over again. He'd been in custody at the time, being tortured and interrogated by Clark's people. But Susan Ivanova had led a fleet of Whitestars to face them in the final push to liberate Earth. She'd won, but the cost had been high. Over half of the ships she'd brought with her had been destroyed along with their crews. Susan had nearly lost her own life, would have lost it if Marcus hadn't... 

“Clark and his conspirators are gone,” Sheridan said after a lengthy pause. “Earth conducted extensive investigations to make absolutely sure they got everyone. Are you saying some of Clark's people are still out there?” 

“No,” Galen said. “I'm saying that the assumption that they were Clark's people was in error. Clark was merely the figurehead propped up by a secret cabal who needed someone in power who supportive of what they were trying to do. They gave him just enough to keep him happy, while diverting the supplies and resources they'd need for after his eventual downfall.” 

“Where's your proof?” Sheridan demanded. 

“Do you truly believe someone like Clark could have done all that he did alone?” 

Sheridan shook his head. “No, but we found proof on Epsilon III that he was working with Morden and the Shadows. Those were his allies. Them and the Psi Corps.” 

“Those were the cabal's allies, not Clark's,” Galen revealed. “Clark was a small man with delusions of grandeur. Even if the Shadows had killed Santiago for him, he never could have held onto his power without the help of those with a deeply entrenched power base already in place. Where do you think all of the resources came from to block communications to EarthForce One that day?” 

“Why would they want Santiago dead and Clark in his place?” 

“Because Santiago knew. He may not have known the specifics, but he knew enough to want to shut them down. His spur of the moment goodwill tour was actually a cover for him to assess the black ops projects receiving funds from the government. But by that time he'd made enough noise that they knew his intentions. They used his excursion to create a convenient accident. Clark would be in their debt, as would the Shadows who wanted Clark to destabilize Earth. This gave them the money and technology they needed for their experiments.” 

“That's an interesting theory,” Sheridan said, “and it even makes a sick kind of sense. But what proof do you have? For any of it? How do I know any of this isn't just a figment of your imagination?” 

“Proof,” Galen seethed. “You want proof?” 

It was the first time Sheridan had ever seen the techno-mage as anything other than in control. Something had seemed different about him since he'd arrived, but Sheridan had been so put off balance by what he'd been shown he hadn't registered it until now. The shock was beginning to fade now that he understood what was happening and he was beginning to think clearly again. The rage he was seeing in Galen matched the reports from Mars he'd been sifting through all day. 

Galen flung his arm into the air, ripping a hole in the sky above them. In it, scenes started to play out. First was one of those Shadow ships from his  “vision” destroying an Omega-class Destroyer, then itself. Next was the _Excalibur_ bearing down on one of those ships, trading weapons fire with it, until it too destroyed itself. Then came an EarthForce base. It was a modified ground configuration, but he didn't recognize the location. Under it were a combination of human marines and the Shadow people he'd seen by the Academy. Lastly came Mars, where a woman sprouted that same oozing black armor from her body, using it to unleash horrendous damage. As her attack ended, the sky sealed itself tight again. 

“That is only the beginning, a taste of what they've done,” Galen said. “They have already crossed all lines of morality without giving pause. And they will not stop until what you have seen has come to pass.” 

“What exactly happened on Mars?” he asked. “I don't believe the whole rampage story, but something happened that you're not telling me about.” 

Galen turned away from him. “Mathew Gideon, captain of the _Excalibur,_ discovered all which I have now shown you. Being a man of conscience, he could not stand by and do nothing. He returned to Mars to testify to what he'd seen, to shut them down once and for all. He was naive to believe it would work and I was a fool for letting him try.” 

“I didn't hear any report from him,” Sheridan said. 

“You wouldn't,” Galen replied. “On his way into the building, the cabal had an assassin lying in wait to stop him. The shooter was the woman I have shown you.” 

“Shooter? Is Captain Gideon...” Sheridan began, fearing he knew the answer already. 

“Dead? That is a more complicated question than you might imagine. Suffice it to say, he is in no position to command the _Excalibur_ and likely will not be for the foreseeable future.” 

“So that's why the _Excalibur_ ran,” Sheridan deduced. “They don't know who to trust or who to turn to. And that's why you're showing me all of this. But Galen, without definitive proof, and I mean a lot more than what you've shown me here, there's not a lot I can do. I may be the President, but I have to act within the law. And while the _Excalibur_ belongs to the Interstellar Alliance, her crew is under Earth's jurisdiction.” 

“I understand this,” he said weakly, “as does the crew of the _Excalibur_. And while they have done nothing wrong, this cancer within EarthForce has made it clear that they will take any steps necessary to maintain their secret. As soon as Lieutenant Matheson reports to his superiors, I suspect they will make certain that no one on board remains a threat for long.” 

Sheridan nodded. “You're probably right. If they're as powerful as you say, they'll put someone they can control in the captain's chair and reassign the crew little by little. That is if they don't arrange a few more accidents for them. But again, I don't know what you expect me to do about it. I can have the Rangers start looking for evidence, but that will take time. And as much as part of me wants to tell them to go rogue and fight this...cancer, ten billion people on Earth are counting on that ship for their survival.” 

“And with or without Captain Gideon, the crew on board right now is the best chance those people have,” Galen said. “Those who would push them aside, or worse, have already placed their faith in the technologies you have seen here tonight. Would you now trust the fates of all those infected to those who find this an acceptable compromise?” 

Galen directed Sheridan's attention back to the phalanx of Shadow people, writhing in the distance. Not that he had to. Sheridan had seen more evil in his life than any person should ever have to face. Yet this violation of all that he held dear, perpetrated by his own race, was by far the most horrific of them all. Just a few short years ago he would have been leading the charge to shut them down and to hell with whatever consequences he had to face down the road. Now that he was the so called most powerful man in the galaxy, he found his options were far more limited. 

“Do you think I want to see this happen?” he asked angrily. “Right now what I _want_ is for you to wake me up from this nightmare so I can mobilize the entire Ranger fleet to find these people and shut them down. Morally, this goes against everything I stand for! But no matter how much I want to do just that, I can't. I hate myself for having to let this happen and I hate you for showing me something you know I can't act on!” 

Galen just stood their, looking neither angry or ashamed. He just stared at him with those damnably still eyes, because yes, without a doubt, he did know the precise position he was placing Sheridan in. 

“If you begin an open investigation,” Galen began, “then the other races will rally against Earth. They will stonewall the search for the cure at every turn to prevent humanity from becoming a threat to their own people. In short order humanity will become isolated and panicked, turning to the very technologies that led them down this road for protection.” 

“So why show me?” Sheridan demanded. 

“Because you need to know the face of your enemy. Because while you cannot act now, you can begin to forge alliances and gather the intelligence to hunt them down when the time is right. And because for all you cannot do to stop them now, there is one action which only you have the power to take.” 

“And what action is that?” 

Galen leaned in close. “When you loaned the _Excalibur_ to Earth, you did so with a single, and potentially useful, caveat.” 

So that's what he was after. “I got to pick her captain. But the language of the agreement doesn't necessarily give me the right to pick a second captain if anything happens to the first.” 

“Nor does it preclude you from doing so,” Galen said. “Our adversaries will count on you staying silent until they already have their own choice for captain in place. At that time, it will become very difficult for you to justify removing that individual without cause. However, if you move quickly, before the decision can be made public, they will likewise be hard pressed to second guess your decision. Providing you choose wisely.” 

Sheridan ran his hands back through his hair, trying to think this through. “Gideon was a controversial choice to start with. They wanted someone more experienced, more willing to follow orders and do things by the book. His being an Explorer ship commander is what tipped the scales to let me pull it off. But I may just know of someone else who might fit the bill.” 

“I thought you might,” said Galen, grinning for a moment before becoming serious again. “Time is a factor. Unless given good reason, Lieutenant Matheson will be contacting his superiors in just over ten hours.” 

“It'll be tricky,” Sheridan replied, “and it might require some convincing, but I think I can do it. And we just got our hands on a new jump drive that might help. Can you get me the coordinates where the _Excalibur_ will be reappearing?” 

“They are already in your possession,” Galen cryptically said. 

Sheridan couldn't help but roll his eyes. “Of course they are. Then you'd better wake me up. Time is not on our side.” 

Galen nodded. “I'm entrusting you with a great deal, Mr. President. I do hope you're up for the challenge.” 

“You and me both,” he said. “Oh, and Galen...next time you need something from me, just call and ask. I have enough nightmares running through my head without you adding to them.” 

“I find this method to be considerably more effective than the direct approach. Now rise and shine. You have work to do.” 

Sheridan sat up in his bed with a start, relieved to see the familiar surroundings of the home he shared with Delenn and David. On the nightstand beside him was an ominously glowing data crystal. Presumably the coordinates for the rendezvous with the _Excalibur_...and hopefully whatever else he had on this secret cabal. Glancing up from the crystal he noticed the time, a mere thirty-eight minutes since he'd closed his eyes. He reached over and triggered the comm switch. 

“Get me a secure channel to the _Liandra_ immediately.” 

_“Yes, Mr. President.”_  

Flipping off the switch, he headed for the bathroom to run some cold water over his face. Yeah, he definitely needed a vacation.


	8. Chapter 8

**Earth Defense Coalition Facility**

**Location: Classified**  

Major Augustus Lee stood beneath the observation dome, appreciating the awe inspiring view. Not of this god forsaken ball of dirt, but of the beautiful black ship parked in close orbit above him. It had the sleek lines and intimidating presence of a Warlock class ship, but no one would ever mistake it for one of its primitive cousins. Although the armored hulls on traditional Warlocks were considered state of the art by most human engineers, they were like tissue paper when compared to the sleek organically grown shell he was currently admiring.  

Originally conceived by the Shadows, Earth’s earliest attempts to graft it onto EarthForce designs were haphazard at best. Through trial and error they’d learned how to grow the stuff, but it had still conformed to the Shadows’ ascetics leaving their ships with ungainly spikes and protrusions sticking out in all directions. Over time they’d learned which DNA strands to snip out, allowing the organic hulls to cleanly mold into the shapes they preferred. 

It was a sight to behold. The validation of years of hard work and sacrifice by those who gave up everything to ensure Earth would be protected from any outside force. And now that the First Ones were gone, with the frustrating exception of The Hand, they were finally on their way to achieving that goal. Even the Minbari, a thousand years ahead of them, had nothing that compared to it. Because while he’d bet on one of these ships over their most advanced battle cruiser, they were nothing compared to their next step… 

_“Major, you have an incoming transmission from the_ Kronos _.”_  

Lee sighed heavily. It never failed. He couldn’t even get five minutes of peace before that damned link went off. Tapping the device adhered to the back of his wrist he said, “Pipe it down here, ensign.” 

The screen across the room came alive, the words ‘Incoming Message’ impatiently flashing at him, as if trying to encourage him to move more quickly. He knew he shouldn’t anthropomorphize the computers, but after a decade of working with living machines it was hard to accept they didn’t all have minds of their own. And most of them seem determined to piss him off. As he keyed in his code, the incessant flashing was replaced briefly by the EarthForce insignia, then a moment later a sour face greeted him. 

_“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we major?”_ asked Colonel Ellis Pierce, commander of the _Kronos_. 

“Just a few more loose ends to tie up,” Lee assured him. “We’ll be on our way well before the fireworks start.”

_“I’d be a lot happier if you’d hurry it along so we can be long gone before the_ Excalibur _gets here.”_  

“We’ve seen no indications that the _Excalibur_ is coming back here,” Lee reminded him. “Lieutenant Matheson is a by the book officer. Without Gideon there to corrupt him, I’m sure revenge is the last thing on his agenda.” 

_“You’re assuming Gideon is actually dead,”_ Pierce said. _“Don’t forget, I know the man. He’s survived more impossible situations than anyone on record, with the possible exception of that turncoat Sheridan.”_  

Lee felt his calm starting to slip. “My operative is as good as her word. If she says he’s dead, he’s dead.” 

Pierce let out a grunt. _“I’ll believe it when I see the body with my own eyes. Probably not even then. The man’s a cockroach. Did I ever tell you how he stole the_ Hyperion _out from under me? My ship!”_

 “Repeatedly,” Lee said, unable to refrain from the less than politic reply. “At least you got an upgrade.” 

_“No thanks to those goldbrickers back at Command,”_ Pierce snapped. _“If it was up to them, I’d be riding a desk somewhere right now. And as solid as she is, I wouldn’t want to put the_ Kronos _up against those Vorlon cannons on the_ Excalibur _. If it wasn’t for him, that ship would probably be mine too! I have half a mind to try and get my hands on that new beauty you boys are building.”_  

“Sorry, she’s spoken for,” Lee said, forcing a smile. “My last research team should be wrapping things up now. I’ll head down and hurry them along.” 

_“You’d better, cuz that place is gonna be a glassed over pit in less than thirty whether you’re still there or not.”_ He gave Lee a twisted grin. _“Then maybe I will get a shot at that upgrade.”_  

“Don’t count on it,” Lee said under his breath. “I’ll contact you when we’ve reached the shuttle. Lee out.” 

Before Pierce could slip another word in, Lee cut the connection. While useful on occasion, Pierce was definitely one of his least favorite assets. He was one of those officers who’d made it up through the chain of command based solely on his connections within EarthGov. That much had been made crystal clear when the then Lieutenant Commander Gideon had relieved him of command for sound reasons and he’d survived it with a promotion. He should have been court-martialed on the spot, or best case, promoted into a desk job with no real power. 

But since EarthForce couldn’t keep him in public view after that, some genius had decided his experience would be useful running the New Technologies Division. Like Lee’s own Organic Technologies Division, Pierce was tasked with hunting down and procuring advanced non-organic tech left behind by the advanced alien races who’d disappeared eons ago. And he had to admit, some of what Pierce’s team had come up with had helped work out the bugs in retrofitting the Shadow tech Lee’s people specialized in. But after spending more than a few endless days meeting with the man, he was convinced Pierce’s people excelled in spite of him, not because of him. 

Lee headed out of the dome into the corridor that lead to the tram. While this base might look like a tiny outpost from the outside, inside their engineers had cut out miles of tunnels beneath the surface. When working with technology that thought for itself and seemed intent on destruction, spreading the labs out over several miles had been a necessary safeguard. Without the tram system, it would take him hours to get to the last remaining team on base. By now Parente and Davidson should have locked down C&C and been on their way to the last shuttle. And of course, that left his least favorite little twitch to deal with. 

He boarded the tram, entering his security code to access the restricted section. In a base full of nothing but secret projects, this one was by far the most dangerous. If any of the other races found out what was going on down there, they’d have a fleet of mass drivers here in a heartbeat. Of course, to a lesser degree that was true about them finding out about any of the projects here. 

Well, in twenty odd minutes, they’d be taking care of that for them. Just not before they’d gotten everything out they needed to keep working at the secondary facility. 

The tram shot through the rock at breakneck speeds. As much as he despised Earth selling itself out to the so called Interstellar Alliance, gaining artificial gravity tech had been a nice bonus. Before they’d installed that here, this trip had taken him three times as long and was bumpy as hell. Now the ride smooth as silk. Although part of him missed those early days, that real frontier feeling of everything held together by spit and bailing wire. It had required a greater fortitude and his people had been stronger because of it. 

Lee shook his head. What was it about leaving a place, even one you hated, that made you nostalgic for it? Ever since he’d gotten here he’d kept his eyes on the prize, a prize that was almost in his grasp. Now it felt like he was being robbed of something rather than moving on to bigger and better things. Maybe it was because the moving on hadn’t been on his timetable. Somehow Gideon had figured out where to find them, forcing him into a defensive posture. The timing could have been worse, as he’d been scheduled to leave in two months anyway. And if he’d left on his own terms, he was certain none of these sentiments would be bothering him in the least. 

Maybe he should be thinking about all the things he wouldn’t miss. The constant meetings with blowhards like Pierce or their allies in the Appropriations Committee. Or the whining little scientists who all demanded their projects be made top priority. And especially the last vestiges of the Psi Corps who refused to accept that their time was past. 

Not that they hadn't been useful back in the day. A little over a decade ago, a cocky  _Senator_ Clark had wanted to shut them down to save a few taxpayer dollars until they’d 'showed him the light'. If going into his head, amping up his ambition and paranoia and convincing him this place could make all those dreams come true could be described as 'seeing the light'. Without that substantial increase in funds and resources, they wouldn’t be half as far as they were, but that didn’t mean he had to like the intrusive telepaths. Knowing that any time their ideas seemed to make sense could be because that’s what they wanted you to think made dealing with them more than he could stomach. 

Well, they’d be Parente’s problem soon enough. After this, he’d get everyone settled in at the new base, then it was off to greener pastures. Or blacker pastures as the case may be. A better life in any case. His true destiny. 

A green light came on over the door, signaling he’d arrived at his destination. God that was a smooth ride! He rose, straightened his uniform and marched down the hall to deal with someone who gave even those Corps freaks a run for their money in the creepy department. Entering the lab, he saw the diminutive South African man hunched over his computer terminal. Of course he was reviewing his research instead of packing up his samples like he'd been told. Repeatedly. 

Lee loudly cleared his throat. “Dr. Balewa, I assume by your relaxed posture that you’re all packed up and ready to go?” 

Balewa didn’t turn to face him. In fact, he had the unmitigated gall to put up his arm with his index finger raised, indicating he'd be with him in a minute. 

Like hell! 

Lee reached the work station in two long strides, firmly gripping the back of his chair and spinning the little twerp around to face him. “You have five seconds to answer me or I’m leaving you here for future generations to scrape out of the rubble.” 

Balewa’s eyes got wide, but not in fear. If anything, Lee would have described the look as glee. “Subject 23! It’s gone…we did it!” 

Lee stumbled back a step, the news catching him completely off guard. Of all the times for this to happen… “That’s not possible. You assured me the modifiers didn’t work. You were supposed to have taken care of him hours ago.” 

“That’s when I found it,” he began, talking so quickly his words were running together.  “Since his blood contained our most recent samples, I figured we’d better get all we could before we lost access to the body. So I had the techs drain a few pints and just to be thorough I ran a new scan before placing the samples into stasis packs. And that’s when I noticed it! All the relevant markers read as normal. Well, not normal, per se, as the modifiers still resulted in the expected mutations. But…” 

“Doctor,” Lee snapped. “We’re running short on time here.” 

“Yes, yes, of course,” Balewa said. “Maybe you should see for yourself.” 

Lee extended his arm toward the armored door. He hurriedly scampered over, entering his retinal scan and access code. When  the long corridor appeared on the other side, he shot into it, as much skipping as walking. 

God how he hated that man. 

As Lee walked past darkened windows on either side of him, he reminded himself of the cost of progress. In his view, the times of greatest success necessitated facing all of the failures that happened on the way. Too many people in his line of work ignored their failures completely, focusing only on the end result. But by ignoring all the pain and death their work caused, it became far too easy to make any sacrifice in the name of success. And once you crossed that line, you went from being forced to do evil things for the greater good, to becoming truly evil. 

So even though the darkened cells were now empty, he acknowledged each one he passed. Twenty-two failures. Men and women who had been sacrificed to learn enough to get to the next step. They had all been volunteers, and condemned criminals to boot, but that didn’t negate their courage. They’d given their lives to save the people they'd cared about, which made them worthy of respect, regardless of their past sins. 

Upon reaching the final window, he noted it’s lights were flickering as if there was a short in the wiring. Inside, a tattooed man sat cross legged on the floor, his eyes closed in meditation. Unlike the scientists working here, who knew him only as Subject 23, Lee understood the depths of the subject's depravity. A mid-level enforcer in a prominent crime syndicate on Proxima Three, he’d been convicted of killing four people and assaulting dozens of others. The prosecutors strongly suspected the number he’d killed was far higher and after meeting the man, Lee had no doubt at all it was. At the time, the colony had put a stop to death of personality punishments, so he ended up getting a life sentence for his crimes. In prison he’d been nothing but trouble, making his peaceful demeanor at this moment suspect at best. 

None of that really mattered. Like most people, when the Drakh had unleashed their plague on the Earth a year ago the subject had still had loved ones trapped on the dying world. So when he’d been given the chance to be transferred here and infected with the plague, he’d taken it. He was a poor excuse for a human being, but even he could choose the honorable path if it could save the ones he loved. 

“He definitely seems more stable than last time I was here,” Lee noted. 

Balewa’s head bobbed rapidly in agreement. “Yes, that’s what made me check the samples. If he’d been the same, I probably would have waited.  But clearly something had changed so I wanted to make sure we didn’t miss anything.” 

“Well done, doctor.” 

Suddenly the lights in the shorted out, hiding the subject from view. A fraction of a second later an arc of electrical energy came shooting from the nearest light panel, dissipating harmlessly against the window. Still, Lee took a step back, unprepared as he was for the aggressive display. The subject slowly opened his eyes, smirked, then waggled his fingers at him. 

“I guess that answers my next question,” Lee said. 

Balewa shrugged. “An unimportant side effect. Nothing we can’t work out now that we know it works. As you know, injecting plague victims with a variant of the modifiers used to enhance our operatives was a completely new approach. Frankly, I wasn’t too optimistic, but since none of our more traditional techniques were working, what did we have to lose? But after we found out the Drakh were immune to the plague, the theory that the Shadows wouldn’t want their other resources infected by their own virus didn’t seem so far fetched.” 

“I read the reports, doctor,” Lee reminded him. 

“Yes, well you have a lot of reports to read. A lot on your plate in general I guess.  I just wanted to make sure you understood the significance of this.” 

“You mean something more significant than having a way to neutralize the Drakh plague?” Lee asked. 

“Much more,” Balewa continued excitedly. “When we began introducing the modifiers into our operatives we only managed a 13% survival rate. But when introduced into someone saturated with the nano-virus, I suspect the survival rate will be close to 100%! Every person on Earth will have the potential to become living weapons. No one will dare threaten us ever again!” 

Lee felt the blood rush from his face as the repercussions sank in. Balewa had lost his entire family during an attack on a small colony during the Minbari War twenty years earlier. No doubt the very thing that turned him into the unstable genius he was today. As well as the reason he was so passionate about their work here. The thought that no one else would have to suffer as his family had was clearly what had pushed him into this manic state. 

Which was why he wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. It was one thing enhancing Earth’s military with organic tech, making its soldiers unstoppable defenders and attackers. That was one of the main goals Lee had fought to achieve since coming here. But to change every man, woman and child on Earth…it was too much. Every murderer, rapist, thug, cultist and terrorist would be made nigh invincible. The mentally handicapped, or heaven forbid the children, could kill each other because of a simple tantrum. Extremist groups would come rushing out of the shadows, each convinced they were now powerful enough to achieve their goals. And once the other races found out, there was no chance in hell they wouldn’t react. Violently. 

Lee grabbed the doctor by his arms again. “Who else have you told about this?” 

“No one but you,” he said. “I was going to submit my report to the Committee once we got under way. I can only imagine how excited they’ll be. My funding will probably be, well, unlimited for something like this.” 

“I’m ordering you to keep it quiet. For now.” 

Balewa shook his head. “I can’t do that. I’m assigned to you but I answer to the Committee. You can't try to bury a breakthrough like this!" 

Lee's first instinct was to kill the doctor on the spot.  Anything to prevent the chaos he envisioned from coming to pass. Instead he took a breath and loosened his grip, deciding on a more rational approach. “Think about it, doctor. Look at what your subject can already do, and he’s only in stage one. Would you want all those like him, and worse, to have that kind of power?” 

“But, but, it’s a cure,” Balewa stammered. “Maybe some bad people will become problems, but law enforcement will have the advantages too. And we can give them the add-ons to give them the edge. Even if hundreds or thousands die during the transition period, it’s better than ten billion dying for sure if we don’t use it.” 

“I’m not saying we don’t cure Earth,” Lee countered, “only that you can do some more testing before letting the cat out of the bag. The Committee members are all trapped on Earth right now.  Desperation will stop them from looking at the bigger picture. They’ll want you to release the cure, as is, immediately.” 

“As they should,” Balewa emphatically replied. 

“Or,” Lee continued, “you find a way to remove or at least limit the side effects before letting them know.” 

Balewa’s voice got quiet. “But it’s everything I’ve ever worked for. Safety for everyone.” 

Lee locked eyes with the doctor's, hoping to drive the point home. “And we can still provide that. Think, doctor. One cure without the dangerous side-effects for the general population, and then this version for those who have the wisdom to use it wisely. Do you want to be remembered as the man whose cure brought chaos to Earth or the man who safely cured the plague _and_ made humanity so strong no one dare attack us again?” 

“They wouldn’t blame me,” he said, but his voice was unsure. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Lee admitted. “But if the other races see unstable, unstoppable killers and terrorists being created on Earth, do you honestly believe they’ll stand by and do nothing during your ‘transition period’? Your breakthrough could lead to the very thing you’re trying to stop.” 

“No,” he whispered. Looking into his eyes, Lee could see the scientist reliving the dark days of the Minbari War as he thought about it. 

“But _we_ can prevent that. You and I. And once you have both versions worked out, then and only then we tell the Committee.” 

Lee held his breath as Balewa considered his argument. He _had_ to realize the stakes. He just had to. Otherwise…otherwise Lee would have to make sure he never left this place alive. With the samples he could put a new team on it when they got to the new base. It was a risk. No one understood the modifiers the way Balewa did. But when he considered the alternative, what choice did he have? Fortunately, he didn’t have to make the call. Yet. 

“Okay, I won’t tell anyone,” Balewa said at last. “But what about Subject 23? Having patient zero on hand for our research would be invaluable.” 

Looking back over to the cell, Lee knew that particular decision required no debate. Confidently approaching the control panel, he entered his override code, triggering the flash incineration protocol built into all of the cells. The ex-enforcer must have realized what was happening at the last second, because he tried to jump to his feet, although what he planned on doing next was left a mystery. The power systems in the cell were isolated from the rest of the base for this very reason. 

Before he made it half way to the window, his body disintegrated into a whirlwind of ash, settling to the floor moments later. 

“Not enough time to secure him for transport,” Lee said, looking to the clock on the wall. They only had nineteen minutes left to collect the samples and get off the base as it was. And after what the Shadow enhanced telepaths had done to Clark’s ships during the Civil War, he wasn’t about to give a man like that a shot at gaining control ofa ship like the _Kronos_. 

He gave Balewa a reassuring pat on the arm. “You’ve got five minutes to finish collecting your samples. I’ll wait here for you. You’re doing the right thing.” 

The doctor numbly nodded, his fire from a few minutes earlier now completely extinguished by the reality of his discovery. 

Lee watched him go, grateful that he’d managed to be persuasive enough. This time, he reminded himself. It was entirely possible that things would change once the urgency of the evacuation was behind them. He’d have to keep a very close eye on him. 

Another thought struck him; his quick escape from this stage of his life to the next would definitely have to be put on hold, at least until this was handled. He couldn’t risk someone like Pierce stepping in to make a decision like this. On the other hand, if Balewa actually managed to pull this off, everything would change. Instead of waiting another decade to get all of their pieces in place, they were looking at months, maybe a year. 

Time was finally on their side.

 

* * * * * 

 

Time had finally run out. 

As he stood outside the _Excalibur_ ’s flight deck, Matheson couldn’t say he was sorry the waiting was over. He’d heard EarthForce crews say it hundreds of times in his life, but until he’d joined up himself, he’d never realized that it truly was the worst part of the job. When he’d given the order to jump back to Mars, he could sense a collective sigh of relief even through the telepathic blocks he kept up. With most of the crew completely in the dark about what was going on, uncertainty had raised the crew's stress levels to a near record level. And considering what they’d been through in the last year, that was saying something. 

He’d chosen a jump point twenty minutes out from Mars at maximum PSL to partially avoid the circus their disappearance had surely caused. As he’d expected, it had taken General Thompson about thirty seconds to contact them and order them to remain where they were. He’d also demanded an explanation, but as he and the others had discussed, Matheson had insisted he could only give that report in person. 

Thompson had boarded the nearest Omega Class Destroyer and had arrived just minutes ago. In one of the little jokes the universe seemed to like to play, the ship that now sat off of their port bow was the _EAS Excalibur_. The fact that another EarthForce ship shared their name was fairly common knowledge, but he’d never really given much thought to how he’d feel seeing it. In a word, it was unsettling. Like an imposter was coming to take on the real thing. 

An alarm sounded overhead signaling that the outer section of the bay had been repressurized. Traditionally when someone of Thompson’s rank came aboard a ship an honor guard was called for, but Matheson had opted to come here alone. Primarily he’d done it to bolster the appearance that he had sensitive information to share and didn’t want anyone else to hear it before his superior officer had been advised. Additionally, he didn’t want to put the _Excalibur's_  security forces in the awkward position of having to arrest their acting commanding officer. 

The general would likely take care of that for them. 

As the shuttle came to a halt, Matheson took a deep breath to calm his nerves, then stepped through onto the main flight deck. As the shuttle’s hatch opened, Thompson’s reaction didn’t disappoint. The first ten people onto the deck were heavily armed marines, leveling their guns at him without hesitation. Only once he was secured did Thompson appear, followed by three others. The first was a solemn looking Max Eilerson, his hands cuffed securely behind his back. He gave Matheson an apologetic look, but thankfully kept his mouth shut. Hopefully he'd done the same for as long as they'd had him. The second was a burly man with a crew cut dressed in an EarthForce commander’s uniform. But when he saw the third individual, his heart jumped into his throat. 

Dressed in a smart business suit, she was an undeniably beautiful woman. That he could handle. But strapped onto a black sash at the top of her suit was something he hadn’t anticipated…the emblem of the Psi Corps. Adopted by the Psionic Monitoring Commission two years earlier, this elite group of P12’s acted as watchdogs on telepaths in certain positions. He’d faced several of them already during his time in EarthForce, the most recent being barely three months ago. They were all called Mr. Jones on the theory it made the process less personal. This was the first time he’d seen a Mrs. Jones, and the implications of her being here with Thompson made selling him the story they’d concocted a virtual impossibility. 

Maybe he should have seen it coming, but they didn’t have the right! The ‘Jones’ program was to make certain that telepaths in certain vocations hadn’t abused their powers by conducting intensive scans on them every six months. Bringing one in three months early had to be Thompson’s idea to make sure he got the whole truth. It was a violation of the spirit, and to the best of his knowledge the letter, of the new laws for telepaths. 

“Lieutenant Matheson,” Thompson barked once he got within a foot of him. “Insisting a General in EarthForce make a personal appearance to their ship before making a report is a good way to end a career. Therefore, I’m assuming it’s Captain Gideon’s idea?” He leaned in close. “Where. Is. He.” 

Matheson, now at full attention, tried not to let his anxiety show. “I’m sorry, sir, but I think this is something we need to discuss in private.” 

“I think we’ll discuss it now. Or do I need to have you restrained and brought back to Mars to answer these questions as part of your court-martial proceedings?” 

“Sir,” he began, lowering his voice to a near whisper. “I meant no disrespect, but my report involves classified material that can’t be discussed in front of these soldiers.” He looked pointedly back at the commander and Mrs. Jones. “Or your other associates. Per regulation 132 section 7. Sir.” 

Clearly not the response he’d been expecting, Matheson could feel the rage directed at him abate…some. “This had better be for real, lieutenant.” 

“I assure you, it is, sir.” 

“Fine,” Thompson said after a brief pause. “For security purposes, by men will secure both engineering and the bridge. Is the captain’s office a secure enough location for you, lieutenant?” 

“Yes, sir,” Matheson replied. “Thank you, sir. With the general’s permission I’ll notify the crew in those sections to avoid any misunderstandings.” 

“Very well,” Thompson said with an annoyed sigh. “Do it quickly. I’ve waited too long for answers as it is and we’re not putting this off another second.” 

Matheson moved to the intercom, letting the watch commander and chief engineer know what was going on while Thompson gave instructions to his commander. Thompson’s troops had lowered their weapons at least, which meant he wasn’t technically under arrest. Not yet anyway. 

As he waited for the general to finish up, he could feel Mrs. Jones’ eyes on the back of his head, although so far she’d refrained from doing anything more invasive. How long that would last, he had no clue. Hopefully his explanation would be enough to keep her at arm's length. Depending on her security clearance, Thompson might not want her seeing EarthForce’s dirty little secrets. 

If not, as Gideon might have said, they’d be screwed six ways from Sunday.

 

* * * * * 

As the new arrivals escorted their General and Lieutenant Matheson off of the flight deck, Agent Reneau stayed close, just not too close. The attachments now joined onto her Shadow Skin made her effectively invisible, which had its drawbacks as well as its obvious advantages. As long as she didn’t bump into anyone...or anything...they shouldn’t notice her, but that also meant she had to stay close enough to get through doors and eventually into the bullet car with them. 

Getting on board had been a tricky bit of flying, but worked along the same general principles. The stealth ship tha had been provided by Major Lee was small enough to be outfitted with the same technology. Although the Shadows could cloak the massive monstrosities they flew, the Coalition had hit a wall effectively expanding the field beyond a few meters. Now parked a short distance from their shuttle, she just had to hope no one stumbled upon it while she was on board.

 Thankfully that shouldn’t take too long. Once she determined what the crew knew, and eliminated anyone who posed a threat, she’d be on her way. Unlike her last job, this one was right in her wheelhouse. While challenging, she’d perfected the necessary skills over the course of dozens of missions. Their objectives always varied, but one thing always remained constant. 

No one ever saw her coming.


	9. Chapter 9

**Excalibur**

**Sol System**  

Matheson tried to keep his fidgeting to a minimum as General Thompson reviewed the data crystal he’d given him what now felt like an eternity ago. At first it had been like pulling teeth to even get him to glance at it. When Matheson had refused to give his report over the comm lines after the _Excalibur_ had arrived and again when Thompso had first come aboard until they could speak in private, the general had demanded immediate answers the second the door to the captain’s office had closed. Only when he’d called up the image of the Shadow-like ship that had attacked them back in September had the General given the crystal serious consideration. 

After having waited twelve hours to finally face the music, this extra time threatened to push Matheson over the edge. He had convinced himself, foolishly it now seemed, that he was ready for anything the General might throw at him. But ever since he’d seen Mrs. Jones step onto the ship, nothing seemed certain to him anymore. If he was scanned, every piece of their carefully laid plan would unravel. 

At last Thompson flipped off the terminal. For several seconds he just stared at Matheson, saying nothing. 

“It would seem that Captain Gideon’s detractors were right after all,” Thompson finally said. 

“I’m sorry, sir?” Matheson replied. 

“Why haven’t I seen these reports before now?” Thompson asked. “Some of these are four months old. If I accept all of this at face value, and that’s a big if lieutenant, then it would appear that Gideon has been running a rogue investigation for at least that long. He’s been following his own agenda when the fate of ten billion people are resting in his hands.” 

Matheson refused to give any outward reaction. “The incident involving the black ship was filed, sir. After it destroyed the alien vessel, we attempted to disable it and it destroyed itself.” 

Thompson pulled up the image in question. “This was never included in any report I saw. Nor was the fact that this ship matches the description of the ghost ship Gideon claimed destroyed the _Cerberus_.” 

“I can’t speak to what the captain did or did not report, sir,” Matheson said. “If he did omit those details, I’m certain it was with good reason.” 

“Yes,” Thompson continued, pulling up another file. “Such as the implication that this ship was tied to a secret EarthForce base, which your ship coincidentally ran across a few months later.” 

“There was no coincidence, general. We traced a signal to that system that matched the last signal transmitted by that vessel before it destroyed itself. Before he went down to it to investigate, Captain Gideon theorized that perhaps the people there were trying to lure it in.”

“And after he returned?” Thompson asked. 

“We never spoke of it again,” Matheson told him. “He met with Galen after coming back, then travelled back to the base on his ship, then straight to Mars from there. I saw him briefly on Mars, but he said he didn’t want to involve anyone from the crew in what he had to do.” 

“From where I’m sitting, what he ‘had to do’ was report the existence and perhaps even the activities of a top secret EarthForce installation to people outside the chain of command.” 

“Again, I couldn’t speak to that, sir,” Matheson said. “He was quite adamant about keeping the _Excalibur_ out of it.” 

Thompson nodded. “So taking the Excalibur into hiding was your idea then. Clearly, if Gideon didn’t want the ship involved, he wouldn’t have ordered it.” 

“No, sir,” Matheson quickly replied, cursing himself. Despite their agreement to put the blame on Gideon and Galen, he couldn’t help himself from trying to protect his friends. “After he was shot, he ordered me to get the _Excalibur_ to safety and to run silent until he could explain further. He never got the chance.” 

“Yes, that would be when the techno-mage conveniently kidnapped him before he could answer for his actions.” Thompson’s voice was thick with sarcasm. He was making no effort to hide his disbelief. 

“As the scans can confirm, sir,” Matheson said, trying to sound offended at the insinuation. 

“I’m sure they can,” Thompson said. He pulled out the data crystal and slammed it on the desk. “How gullible do you think I am, lieutenant?” 

“Sir, I swear…” 

“Stow it, lieutenant!” Thompson shouted as he forcefully stood up. 

Matheson snapped to attention, his eyes straight forward. He’d never met Thompson personally, but Gideon had given his opinion of the man a few times. It was not a flattering one. Thompson’s defining trait was his expectation that rank be respected over everything else. If you were given an order, you obeyed that order, no questions asked. The report he’d just handed him had been carefully designed to play on that. Now all he could do was hope the captain had read the man correctly. 

“As I see it, there are two possible explanations for this mess,” Thompson began. “First, is that Captain Gideon was using this ship for his own agenda, despite the seriousness of the mission he was given. In doing so he risked this ship and attempted to expose at least one project vital to Earth security.” 

Matheson had never before had to fight the urge to use his abilities more than he was at this moment. Did Thompson know what was going on at Lee’s base or was he exaggerating for effect? Ever since the captain’s ‘death’, he’d wanted nothing more than to get his hands on someone responsible. Was Thompson part of this secret cabal Galen had warned them of? 

He forced the impulse back down. No, there was a time and a place for revenge and this wasn’t it. If Thompson felt his intrusion, which happened on occasion, nothing else would matter. They needed to survive this first. 

“Mrs. Jones will be able to answer that question for me,” Thompson said. He stepped so close that Matheson could smell his breath. “You will submit to a scan immediately, Lieutenant Matheson. And if I find you’ve so much as exaggerated a single detail, your career prospects will be the least of your worries.” 

“The security issues…” Matheson stammered, unable to hold it together any longer. 

“I shouldn’t tell you this,” Thompson said, “but before she was Mrs. Jones, she served as a high level military telepath with full clearance on all black ops projects. Earth’s secrets will be safe. Unless those aren’t the secrets you’re worried about.” 

Matheson took a deep breath and braced himself. “With all due respect, sir, you have no right to have me scanned. I understand your desire to get to the truth, I even share it. But EarthForce regulations specifically state that loyalty scans are now illegal. The fact that I’m a telepath does not give you the right to violate those regualtions. Sir.” 

Thompson shook his head in an exagerated fashion. “I was hoping you’d agree and I’d simply be proven wrong, lieutenant. Your record up until now has been exemplary. And if you truly have nothing to hide, I wouldn’t see the near panic I’m now seeing at the thought of a scan.” 

“It’s not fear, sir,” Matheson said, “it’s outrage. I joined EarthForce because it was everything Psi Corps wasn’t. Telepaths were promised equal treatment under the new rules. If I let this happen, it would be an insult to everything being an EarthForce officer stands for. Not only that, it would set a dangerous precedent for any telepath joining EarthForce in the future.” 

“Eloquently spoken, lieutenant,” Thompson said. “And if that was my intention, you would be absolutely correct.” 

Matheson’s mind was spinning, trying to see Thompson’s angle. “There’s no special circumstance here that overrides the regulations.” 

“That all depends on what’s really been going on here,” Thompson said, pulling another data crystal from his pocket. He slid it into the terminal and spun it around for Matheson to see. 

“Less than a month ago,” Thompson began, “you came into contact with an unknown alien artifact. According to multiple reports, it enhanced your abilities above those of a even P12, allowing you to mentally take control of the _Excalibur_.” 

“And I was medically cleared by both Doctor Chambers and our medical telepath, Doctor Tracy, afterwards,” Matheson pointed out. “That has nothing to do with this.” 

“That’s one interpretation,” Thompson said. “From my perspective, the first officer of this ship was possessed and enhanced by an artifact of unknown origin. While under its influence, you not only found your missing crewmember, a Dureena Nafeel, but found her in a hidden fold of hyperspace which we've been unable to locate since. A mere three weeks later the _Excalibur_ somehow finds a secret EarthForce base that it should never have been able to find. Immediately after this, your captain goes rogue, attempting to undermine Earth security and is shot in the attempt. Then, he goes missing before he can be questioned, leaving you in command.” 

Matheson couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You can’t believe I was responsible for any of that! I was only under the control of the artifact for a few hours. The reports show how we found the base.” 

“Reports generated by a ship you easily took control of,” Thompson pointed out. “Maybe you’re right and the two incidents are completely unrelated. But we can’t take that chance.” 

“I demand to speak to representation,” Matheson said. 

Thompson flipped to the next screen on the still active terminal. The Psi symbol was prominently displayed at the top of the page, with full authorization from the MetaSensory Commission confirming Thompson's orders. On the bottom of the page were the signatures of everyone, short of the President, who he might be able to offer an appeal to. 

“This was in the works even before your little stunt on Mars,” Thompson said. “Considering what you were able to do to the Vorlon systems on this ship, EarthForce and the Commission have a responsibility to the people of Earth to ensure the safety of the mission.” 

Matheson felt ill. They had him dead to rights. How stupid had he been not to see this coming? Of course people back home would want to study him. In all the decades of illegal testing done by the Psi Corps, he’d never even heard a hint of anyone being able to do the things he'd done while under the control of the Apocalypse Box. The Corps might be gone, but the desire to create more powerful telepaths would always remain. 

He’d have to resign. It was the only option left. But would even that stop them? Under the new laws, they could still call him a potential danger to others and order the scan. Unless…unless he agreed to take the sleepers. 

Even in his lowest moments, he’d never considered that an option. He’d seen what those drugs did to telepaths. If he was lucky he’d still be functional, but he’d never really feel alive again. Unless he went rogue. God, he couldn’t imagine that life… 

_“General Thompson.”_  

The voice coming through Thompson’s link broke him out of his stupor. It wasn’t one he recognized, meaning it was probably one of their 'guests'. 

“I told you no interruptions, Commander Griggs,” Thompson admonished. 

_“I’m sorry, sir, but a ship just came out of hyperspace. They’re insisting on speaking to you immediately.”_  

“What ship?” Thompson asked. 

_“The_ Liandra _, an Interstellar Alliance ship. They claim they’re here under the direct authority of President Sheridan.”_  

“You can tell them this is a matter of internal Earth security and outside of their authority,” Thompson snapped. 

_“I already did, sir,”_ Griggs replied. _“They said that since the_ Excalibur _belongs to them, it does fall under their purview. They've already launched a shuttle.”_  

Thompson let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine, commander, let them in.” He turned to Matheson. “You wouldn’t happen to know how the Interstellar Alliance even knows where we are, would you, lieutenant?” 

“No, sir,” Matheson said. 

“Or course not. I suppose you want to come down while I talk to them, right? Expecting a last minute reprieve?” 

Matheson locked eyes with him. “I’m as curious as you are. The only way I can imagine they found us is through Galen. And after what he pulled on my watch, I want some answers too.” 

“I’d really like to believe that,” Thompson said. “I understand telepaths like to prepare themselves for invasive scans. I suggest you use this walk to do so, because after we finish with this nonsense, you have an appointment with Mrs. Jones.” 

Seeing no point in responding, Matheson bit his tongue and quietly followed Thompson through the door. 

For the sake of the captain, his crew mates and the mission, he sincerely hoped this was good news. Maybe Galen had pulled off a miracle to keep the mission on track without handing the ship over to Gideon’s killers. He was a techno-mage. Miracles were his stock and trade. 

But the general was wrong about one thing. He wasn’t hoping for a miracle for himself. Even if Galen had pulled off the impossible one last time for everyone else, Matheson was beyond help. No matter how the cards fell, his time on the _Excalibur_ had come to an end.

 

* * * * *

 

Reneau darted through the door ahead of the general, then hung back for a few seconds waiting for her quarry to pass. After listening to Thompson’s theory on Matheson’s abilities, she’d quickly moved him to the top of her threat assessment list. If even a third of what Thompson had said was true, he could be far more dangerous then the Jones woman who was wandering somewhere around the ship. 

Which made continuing her mission problematic at best. The major would undoubtedly want to hear what the oh so creatively named Mrs. Jones would find in Matheson’s head. But if the telepath did trigger something in him, even invisible Reneau could be exposed to everyone. It was the first thing drilled into every agent from day one…telepaths and shadow tech don’t mix. She could suddenly find herself not only visible, but trapped behind enemy lines with no functioning implants. And without that edge, she had no delusions she could fight her way free. 

If only she’d had the foresight to leave a surveillance camera behind before they’d left the room. Even if it were to be discovered, she could wait from the relative safety of her ship, which would increase her odds of getting away significantly.  

Well, no point in dwelling on missed opportunities. Even if she didn’t go back in, she’d learned plenty already. Having scanned the monitor over Thompson’s shoulder, she now had a record of everything EarthForce knew about them. The strange thing was, a great many points were missing. Best case, Gideon had kept his crew completely in the dark and with his death they had little to worry about. The more likely scenario, at least in her opinion, was that the report had been doctored to make them believe that was the case. 

If that was true, it would certainly explain Matheson’s near panicked reaction to the idea of a scan. Which brought her back full circle. It was imperative she find out what, if anything, Matheson was hiding. Normally in a situation like this she’d plan a convenient accident for him just to play it safe. But if he could affect organic tech at the levels Thompson was saying, he could be invaluable to the Coalition. Not that he’d come willingly after what she did to his captain, but experimentation and dissection would still be necessary. 

The two officers arrived at the waiting bullet car and entered. Fortunately, two of the general’s security team were waiting for him so she was able to slip into the car well behind the telepath. Thompson was glaring at Matheson, but continued to let the silent fear of what was coming eat away at him. From the look of Matheson’s glazed and darting eyes, it was working quite nicely. 

She nearly lost her balance as the car shot forward, but managed to lock her feet into the flooring at the last second. It wasn’t as if she could strap on a safety harness like the others. Following them from the shuttle earlier, she knew the ride was only a minute or two long anyway. She could easily hold on that long. 

Which left her to wonder about the new mystery that had presented itself. What on Earth was the Interstellar Alliance doing here? Maybe they were here as a formality.  The _Excalibur_ was their ship after all. But the realist in her feared it wasn’t that simple. She knew the Coalition had faced the Alliance on more than one occasion, but to the best of her knowledge they’d never tied any of the incidents together. If they’d somehow managed to link Gideon’s reports into what they’d seen, they could be here to exonerate the whole crew. They could even officially expose the Coalition, maybe even declare open war on them. 

As the car glided to a stop, Reneau forced herself to stop guessing. She’d know soon enough, one way or the other. Getting herself all worked up over it didn’t help anything. Besides, she worked better improvising as needed. Over thinking it would just make her freeze up when the time came to act. 

She followed the quartet out of the car, down the corridor…then stopped dead in her tracks. 

No. It wasn’t possible.

The Skin grew warm and vibrated against her flesh. It was a sensation as natural to her as getting dressed was to an unenhanced. Reneau closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling. Somewhere close, a fully functional piece of shadowtech called out in response, echoing her Skin’s desire to join with another machine. 

Looking back up, she noticed Thompson’s group was no longer in sight. For a second she was torn…but only for a second. Nothing classified would be discussed on the flight deck in front of everyone anyway. She’d rejoin them on the way back to the office, regardless of the risk. This feeling was new, unlike any of the enhancements she’d previously used. And she’d used them all. Which meant someone on this ship had a piece of shadowtech the Coalition didn't have. That discovery could be more valuable than any intel. 

Closing her eyes again, Reneau let the call of the foreign tech fill her senses. It was so clear to her. While she couldn’t technically see through walls, her mind’s eye showed her the beautiful, warm glow behind the next door. Still entranced, she placed her hand on the door panel, overriding its security features with a thought. She stepped through, knowing the tech she sought was almost within reach… 

And was forced to open her eyes as her head and arms both became trapped within some kind of fabric. 

Fearing a trap, she immediately called to the Skin’s offensive capabilities. It was immediately apparent that they wouldn’t be needed though. She hadn’t been snared, she’d simply walked into several loosely hanging tarps, identical to a dozen others scattered throughout the room. In fact, she couldn’t so much as make out the room’s natural walls or ceiling through them. 

For some reason, whoever occupied these quarters seemed to have used the giant swaths of fabric to make the room a fraction of its intended size. Considering the number one complaint most EarthForce officers made was having to live in tiny quarters, she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. 

The mystery became unimportant as her adrenaline levels came back down. Without the barrier of the door, the new tech was virtually screaming at her now. Reneau pushed her way past the tarps, knocking over several decorative objects as she went. Glass shattered onto the floor, but she walked right through it. Only one thing in this room mattered. 

In front of her was what anyone else would see as a the outer bulkhead. But her Skin wasn’t so easily fooled. It wanted the new tech more than she did, so gave her every advantage she needed to get to it. She reached through the hologram shielding the cleverly hidden safe and joined with its lock. Surprisingly, it fought her. Whoever had designed the mechanism had gone leaps and bounds above anything she’d seen before. It could take her hours to bypass it. 

The Skin refused to wait. Before Reneau even realized what was happening, a pulse of violet energy surged from her outstretched hand, tearing through the safe as if it were paper. The safe’s charred door hit the floor in front of her, its edges glowing red from the heat. 

Finally, it was hers. 

Although it wasn’t what she’d been expecting. It wasn’t like any shadowtech she’d ever seen. And it was beautiful. A sword unlike any she’d ever heard of. The blade separated in the middle, forming a deadly double tip. But its most striking feature was the glowing red orb placed between the downward sloping guard. Unlike the rest, her Skin cared nothing for it, but she could feel its importance from where she stood. 

Making sure her hand had cooled, she reached in and reverently pulled it out. Through her Skin, she could see the tech running through it from one end to the other, connected in ways she’d never imagined. Unlike her enhancements, it wasn’t a piece of the whole, it was power onto itself. Not that it was stopping her Skin from starting to join with it. 

“That doesn’t belong to you.” 

Reneau spun around at the comment. Standing just inside the door was one of the women she’d seen meeting Gideon on Mars a few days earlier. It was the ‘retrieval specialist’, Dureena Nafeel. 

And somehow, she was seeing Reneau through her cloaking field. 

Deciding to conserve energy, she dropped the field. “Coming from a thief, that’s ironic.” 

The alien’s eyes burned with rage. “You’re the one who killed Gideon.” 

“I’d be more worried about myself if I were you. I don’t suppose I could convince you to tell me about this beauty?” she asked, holding the sword up. 

The sword jerked forward, tearing free of both her hand and Skin. It spun through the air toward Dureena, the thief's hand snatching it by the hilt with ease as it approached her. 

“I have a better idea. I’ll give you a demonstration.” 

With a roar, the sword wielding madwoman charged her.

 

* * * * *

 

Thompson was barely holding his temper in check by the time they reached the flight deck. He’d been an opponent of this whole Interstellar Alliance thing from day one, but no one had listened. All they could see was the bribes being offered and the fantasy of a peaceful galaxy in the wake of President Clark’s machinations. 

And now they were proving his point. By every definition, this was an internal Earth matter, outside of their jurisdiction. True, the _Excalibur_ was their ship, but the crew was EarthForce. Whatever Sheridan was trying to pull, he wasn’t going to do it on his watch. 

Deciding a show of force from the get go was important, he had summoned his entire security squad to the shuttle door, weapons ready. Not that he’d actually shoot a Ranger, as much as he might want to, but he would make it crystal clear he wasn’t someone who could be walked on. 

In unison his men leveled their weapons at the door as it opened. They were the best of the best. He’d put any of them up against one of those Minbari collaborators any day of the week. Whatever tricks Sheridan had up his sleeves, Thompson wasn’t gonna be caught off guard like those idiots who let him walk after the war. 

But when the shuttle’s passenger stepped onto the _Excalibur_ , he had a feeling he was going to eat those words. Because it wasn’t a Ranger, it was an EarthForce captain. 

“General Thompson,” she said, snapping off a salute. “Captain Elizabeth Lochley, reporting for duty.” 

“Duty?” Thompson began, then regained his composure. “What are you doing here, captain? This situation has nothing to do with either the Interstellar Alliance or Babylon 5.” 

“I couldn’t speak to that,” Lochley said, holding up a pad which he reluctantly took. “By the orders of Susanna Luchenko, President of the Earth Alliance, I’ve been ordered to take command of the _Excalibur_. Effective immediately.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Excalibur**

**Sol System**

Dureena rushed toward the murderer in front of her with a fierce battle cry. On her second step she placed her left foot on top of the small chair in front of her, using it to launch herself into the air. Raising the sword above her head, she tracked her opponents movements, making certain her strike was true when she brought it back down. 

But just as Galen had described from his battle with her on Mars, the black armor protecting her changed shape to deflect her blow to the side. Before Dureena could correct her angle of attack, the woman spun away, using Dureena’s forward momentum to gain a little distance from her. 

The black shell shifted again, this time stretching out from her right hand. It twisted and undulated as if it were alive before snapping into a new shape. Surprisingly, it now looked identical to the sword she carried. Every curve and space had been perfectly duplicated…except for the color, or lack thereof. 

“I see the techno-mage has taught you a few things,” her adversary said with a grin. “But do you really think you can succeed where your master failed?” 

Dureena remained silent, refusing to get drawn in by her taunts. All those years fighting for her life in the pits had taught her better. She’d seen more than a few warriors fall to inferior opponents because they’d let their emotions take over. And based on what she’d seen and heard of the Shadow armor, not to mention the charred remains of her near impenetrable safe beside her, she was already fighting an uphill battle. 

Years of honing her instincts had told her something wasn’t right before she’d even entered her quarters. With the human general and his troops on board, they’d been the likeliest suspects. What she hadn’t been prepared for was an ill defined invisible aura holding her sword. And when the intruder had become visible right before her eyes, it had taken every ounce of restraint to not rush her on the spot. 

When Galen had showed them all the face of Gideon’s killer, Dureena had burned it into her mind. At that moment, Reneau had joined the select few whose lives she’d sworn to end at all costs. The fact that Galen might be able to restore the captain hadn’t changed a thing. If Reneau and her masters thought themselves too powerful to be brought down by the diminutive thief, so much the better. The syndicate that had first sold her into slavery been that arrogant once. It had made their deaths all the sweeter. 

The sword hummed softly to her as she and Reneau circled one another, centering her mind. Her years as a gladiator had made her an expert with most ‘primitive’ weapons, but none more-so than with a sword. She’d learned to turn any sword into an extension of herself and this was no ordinary sword. It was the one thing she’d managed to hold onto from her recent kidnapping, which to her made the entire ordeal well worth the pain. 

It completed her in a way no one else could possible understand. Except for Galen. Not that she could ever tell him of its existence. Yes, he would understand, but since he steadfastly refused to show her even the most basic of his powers, she knew exactly how he’d react to the sword. In his mind, she’d be no better than Reneau, accessing powers that even his kind couldn’t control. But it wasn’t the powers that were the issue. It was the intent behind their use. 

Although in this moment, Dureena was certain her intent was exactly the same as Reneau’s. Only one of them would leave this room alive. 

Reneau finally made her move, her dark sword now a blur of clumsy thrusts. Dureena parried them all with ease. Her opponent's training clearly hadn’t been with swords. Bracing her feet, she pushed Reneau’s weapon into the wall, snatching one of her daggers from her belt with her free hand. She drove it into Reneau’s eye...and watched it shatter into a dozen pieces as a protective black skin slipped over her eyelid. 

Caught off guard, Dureena only narrowly avoided Reneau's counterattack, a black dagger of her own that had sprouted from her other hand. Using Reneau’s shoulders as a fulcrum, she flipped over her head, landing behind her in a defensive crouch. 

“Impressive,” Reneau said. “But you must realize by now you can’t hurt me, let alone kill me. I was willing to let this play out to see what that sword could do, but I think I’ll figure it out on my own. Good-bye.” 

The dark sword in her hand morphed again, this time into a muzzle pointed right at Dureena. A purple stream of energy shot from the newly formed gun, at far too close a range for her to avoid. 

As its energy tore through her, Dureena finally understood what real power felt like.

 

* * * * *

 

Matheson stood behind General Thompson in stunned silence, staring at their new arrivals. Galen had said he had something up his sleeve, but he hadn’t expected this. Matt had spoken on more than one occasion how he couldn’t understand how Lochley could be completely content commanding a diplomatic station instead of being out on the Rim. They were the same person in so many ways, that the very idea completely baffled him. 

So what the hell was she doing here now? 

Fortunately, that shock and confusion was written all over his face when Thompson’s head snapped around to face him. He probably figured Matheson had called her in, which given the situation wasn’t an unreasonable theory. Whether he was convinced by what he saw or knew it would all come out during the scan anyway, he quickly turned his attention back to the pad Lochley had given him. 

Suddenly he felt a telepathic pressure on the edge of his thoughts. He immediately turned to see Mrs. Jones standing a few feet to his left. But from the looks of it, he was the farthest thing from her mind at the moment. She was glaring at one of the Rangers as he grinned benignly at her. 

Had she just tried to scan him and been caught? That would explain the feeling. A telepathic burst targeted at another so close could easily have brushed up against the walls in his own mind. But why would she risk scanning a Ranger? If he reported her actions, it could cause a major diplomatic incident. 

Unsure what to make of that situation, he turned back to the primary stand-off in the room just in time to hear Thompson break the moment of silence. 

“These seem to be in order,” he said, speaking through gritted teeth. 

“I’m getting the impression you weren’t expecting me,” Lochley replied. “It wasn’t my intention to blind side you, general.” 

This time Matheson had to fight back a grin. Now that the shock had worn off some, he could almost hear Gideon in her tone. She knew good and well what she was doing. She also knew as long as she played the part that there wasn’t a thing Thompson could do about it. At least he hoped so. 

“Trust me,” Thompson said, still fuming, “looking into this supposed communications breakdown will be my top priority when I get back to Mars.” 

“I’d feel the same way, sir,” she said. “I know we’re getting off on the wrong foot, but I’m just here to do a job.” 

Thompson stared behind her. “I’d like to believe that, captain. But arriving by Interstellar Alliance ship, not to mention being accompanied by two Rangers, sends a very different message.” 

“Perhaps I can explain that,” said one of the Minbari. “President Sheridan wished to expedite the captain’s arrival so as not to delay the _Excalibur_ any more than necessary. The nearest EarthForce ship would have taken nearly a full day longer to make the rendezvous, so the President called upon our services.” 

“Then you’ve done your job,” Thompson said. “I don’t mean to be rude, but we’re in the middle of a classified investigation. Thank you for ferrying Captain Lochley to us, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.” 

The taller of the two stepped forward while his companion continued to stand quietly in the background. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. In light of recent events, your president has also agreed to allow a small contingent of Rangers to be assigned the Excalibur.” 

“For what purpose,” Thompson seethed. 

“The _Excalibur_ was loaned to Earth for the express purpose of searching for a cure for your people. President Sheridan only wishes to ensure our ship is only used for this purpose. Your President Luchenko was in complete agreement.” He produced a pad of his own. “I believe the pertinent information is all here.” 

Thompson grabbed the pad and began to carefully read its contents. 

_*Lieutenant Matheson, do not react.*_  

Despite the warning, the unexpected voice in his head caught him off guard. He fought the urge look to Mrs. Jones, but years of training told him the ‘voice’ wasn’t hers. Telepathy was a tricky thing. A senders telepathic voice rarely sounded exactly like their spoken words, but they were usually close. A skilled telepath could change the tone, even the gender of their inner voice, but this was something else. It was a different species, something much harder to fake. 

Trying to act as nonchalantly as possible, he eyed their Minbari guests. One was standing patiently in front of the general while he read the orders he’d been handed. The other was also facing Thompson, but as Matheson studied him, he calmly locked eyes with him and nodded serenely. 

_*Yes, John, now look back toward the captain before anyone suspects something is amiss.*_  

Matheson jerked his head back to Lochley, then cursed himself for being so obvious. Mrs. Jones wasn’t stupid and clearly knew the Minbari was a telepath already. _*She probably already knows. Are you strong enough to block her?*_  

The voice laughed. _*I would perhaps be a P2 or 3 on the human scale. My skills lie elsewhere. However, I brought a small bauble we found on our journeys which should keep our conversation private. Unfortunately, she seemed to recognize it, so I was forced to give her a demonstration of its strength.*_

_*How would she have recognized it?*_  

_*That is unimportant. We have little time. I have been entrusted with the truth of your recent troubles. The President feared your government may try to use a telepath to uncover that truth as well. Given the presence of our friend here, am I correct in assuming that is the case?*_  

Suspicion welled up unbidden in Matheson’s mind. He didn’t know this Minbari. He hardly knew anything about the Rangers in general. Only that they helped out in the search for the cure and they seemed to be honorable people. Of course a few days ago he would have said the same thing about EarthForce. Did he really know the whole story, or was it a ploy to get him to spill before Mrs. Jones got to him? 

_*My name is Dulann. As for the rest…*_  

Without warning his mind was filled with a flurry of images. They were the same ones Galen had produced earlier, showing them the modified assassin, along with images of Lee, his base and the black ship they’d fought in September. Either Galen had provided the Ranger with them, or they’d just been yanked out of his head. He suspected the former, but in any case it didn’t really matter. Since the Ranger already knew everything, there didn't seem to be much point in playing it safe. 

_*Yes, she is,*_ he admitted at last. _*And I honestly have no clue how to stop it. Even if I resign from EarthForce, she still has the authority to conduct the scan. The new laws require me to submit as long as I’m not on sleepers. And even if I agreed to take those, I’d have to undergo a final scan to guarantee I planned on staying on them. She isn’t supposed to look for anything else, but Thompson’s made it clear she’s going to whether I like it or not.*_  

_*You do not believe the general can be trusted? Is he a member of this group experimenting with shadow tech?*_  

_*I don’t know, maybe. But even if he’s not, the things he finds out will put others in his sights. At best the people we need here to find the cure will be transferred. At worst, they’ll end up like Captain Gideon. Or worse.*_  

Thompson’s voice jolted him back to reality. “These seem to be in order as well. Another breakdown in communications I’m sure,” he said, directing the comment as much to Lochley as to the Ranger. 

_*I may have a way out for you,*_ Dulann continued. _*Are you willing to give up whatever is necessary to protect the others?*_  

_*Of course,*_ he thought back. 

_*Then when the time comes, you must do as I say, without hesitation.*_  

“Unfortunately, this particular investigation involves matters deemed classified by EarthForce,” Thompson said. “I’ve read your charter, you have no jurisdiction in our internal matters, regardless of whose ship we’re on.” 

“You are, of course, correct,” the other Ranger replied. 

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Thompson said. “I’ll assign someone to have you shown to guest quarters for now. I’m sure Captain Lochley will work out the logistics of this new arrangement at a later date.” 

“That is acceptable,” the Ranger said. 

Thompson nodded. “Very well. Captain Lochley, I’ll be needing use of your office to continue my investigation.” 

“Of course. May I ask the status of the investigation, sir?” she asked. 

“In progress,” Thompson vaguely replied. “However, I believe we’ll be getting some answers very soon. Mrs. Jones?” 

Caught once again staring at Dulann, she immediately brought her attention back to Thompson. “Yes, sir?” 

“If you’re prepared, the security team will escort you and Mr. Matheson to somewhere private. Is there anything else you’ll need before you begin?” 

“No, sir,” Jones said. “Just a quiet space and some privacy and I’ll get underway.”

Dulann spoke aloud for the first time. “I apologize for eavesdropping, but are you suggesting a telepathic scan on Mr. Matheson?” 

“That’s need to know,” Thompson said. “And to put it bluntly, none of your concern.” 

“In this instance, you are mistaken,” he said. “I am afraid I cannot allow you to perform such a scan.” 

Thompson strode forward, leaving mere inches between his face and Dulann’s. “Your friend seemed to grasp this easily enough, but in case you weren’t paying attention, you have no jurisdiction here. Lieutenant Matheson is an EarthForce officer involved in a matter of Earth security. This doesn’t involve you.” 

The Ranger turned to Matheson. “I believe now would be a good time.” 

This time,instead of hearing Dulann's inner voice, Matheson understood what he wanted in a flash. It was an insane plan, but it's not like he had any better ideas. Choking down his fear, Matheson turned to Lochley, a look of determination in his eyes. “Captain Lochley. I hereby officially tender my resignation as an officer of EarthForce. Effective immediately.” 

“Resignation not accepted,” Thompson cut in. “What the hell do you think you’re trying to prove, lieutenant?” 

“I can’t in good conscience serve an organization that would so blatantly abuse the new laws for telepaths to conduct an illegal loyalty scan. As Captain Lochley is apparently my new superior officer, I’m following proper protocol.” 

Thompson laughed. “Cute, lieutenant, but in case you’ve forgotten, I’m Captain Lochley’s superior. So once again, resignation denied. Escort the lieutenant and Mrs. Jones to the captain’s office.” He looked back to Matheson. “When she’s done with you, we can revisit this, per regulations.” 

Matheson felt a surge of panic as the guards approached. He desperately looked back at the Minbari. 

_*Have faith, John.*_  

“Hold up,” Lochley said, stopping the guards in their tracks as they grabbed Matheson’s arms. “General, is there any evidence against him now?” 

“What do you think you’re doing, captain?” Thompson demanded. 

“My duty, sir,” she answered. “I may have only gotten this command five minutes ago, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a responsibility to my crew. So I have to ask, without a scan, do you have any legal reason to deny his resignation?” 

“The scan is the legal reason,” Thompson told her. “Mrs. Jones…” 

The petite telepath looked sympathetically at her. “I’m afraid the general is correct, captain. As an active telepath, Mr. Matheson agreed to abide by all of the new laws. This scan may have been requested by General Thompson, but its the Bureau of Telepath Integration that’s requiring it.” 

Lochley’s forehead furrowed. “It sounds like an end run around his civil rights.” 

“Your opinion has been noted, captain” Thompson coldly told her. “Now unless anyone else has any new, not to mention valid objections…” He raised his hand toward the door in a clear order to the security officers. 

“Actually,” Dulann cut in, “I’ve yet to voice my existing objection.” 

Thompson sighed heavily. “And that is?” 

“Just as the Rangers have no authority over you internal matters, Earth has also agreed to yield to our authority in matters relating to ours. Therefore, we cannot allow this scan to transpire.” 

“We've already covered this. This may be your ship, but its crew answers EarthGov,” Thompson pointed out. 

The Ranger began to circle, his fingers steepled in front of him. “How familiar are you with the history of the Rangers?” 

“That you’re supposed to watch the borders and let us govern ourselves,” Thompson said bluntly. 

“A thousand years ago, before the Shadows came, Minbar’s warrior caste was being torn apart by clan warfare,” Dulann began, unfazed by Thompson’s remark. “The Anla’Shok were created to rise above this infighting. After the war, Valen feared we would return to our old ways, using the ships and weapons of the Anla’Shok to reignite the bloodshed. To prevent this, he kept the Rangers active as sentries and watchers, their members swearing loyalty to their cause over their clans.” 

“I assume there’s a point to this little history lesson,” Thompson said. 

Dulann nodded. “The Anla’Shok of today are remarkably similar to our earliest fore-bearers. Instead of being drawn from different clans, they are now drawn from different worlds. Still, we honor Valen’s wisdom. The strength of the Rangers cannot be used to give any one world an advantage over the others. Which is why when President Sheridan gave your world use of our most powerful ship, each of its command crew agreed to become honorary members of the Anla’Shok.” 

Thompson laughed. “You can’t be serious. The clause you’re talking about is purely symbolic! I was there when the Excalibur Agreement was signed. It was a necessary loophole to get around an archaic tradition. It was a diplomatic gesture, nothing more.” 

“Entil’Zha Delenn does not take the agreement so lightly,” Dulann said. “Just as your government agreed to this condition in an effort to be diplomatic, she has not made an issue of it for the same reason. Until now.” 

Matheson stood in stunned silence. This had to be the bluff to end all bluffs. Didn’t it? He remembered agreeing to it when he came on board, but like Thompson had said, it was purely honorary. He’d never asked to be a Ranger. As far as he knew, they were little more than the border patrol of the Interstellar Alliance. Not exactly the life he’d dreamed of during all of those years when he was stuck in the Corps. 

He chided himself. That didn’t matter now. If Dulann could pull this off, it was a way to protect the others. He might be off the mission, but with Lochley in command and the others safe from retribution, Earth had its best shot at survival. 

Mrs. Jones wasn’t going to let him go that easy though. “Pardon my interruption, but whether he’s a Ranger, an EarthForce officer or both, doesn’t really change anything. Earth law states that all telepaths not on sleepers must be periodically scanned to make sure they’re following the new rules. The Interstellar Alliance can’t override the legitimate laws of its members. President Sheridan himself set the precedent during the telepath situation on Babylon 5 six years ago.” 

“I’m afraid she’s right,” Lochley said. “I was there. His own policies tied his hands.” 

“That incident involved civilians,” Dulann pointed out. “Mr. Matheson is not a civilian.” 

“No, he’s an officer in EarthForce,” Thompson said. 

“And a Ranger,” Dulann countered. “An organization your government agreed would stand independent of your own military. So in this case, the laws for telepaths within the Anla’Shok supersede the laws of Earth.” 

“You can’t use a series of loopholes to make the law say what you want it to,” Thompson said, fuming. 

“Why not?” Matheson couldn’t resist asking. “Isn’t that exactly what you were trying to do to get your scan in the first place?” 

“No one gave you permission to speak freely, lieutenant,” Thompson shot back. 

The other Ranger stepped in to diffuse the situation. “General Thompson, as the political specialist on board the _Liandra_ , I must concur with Dulann’s assessment. His interpretation of the regulations of both Earth and the Interstellar Alliance are correct. I therefore must now request that you either charge Mr. Matheson with a specific crime, or release him.” 

As Thompson glared at the two Minbari, Matheson feared he’d charge him out of spite if nothing else. And once he was off of the _Excalibur_ , he had little doubt he’d be scanned before the issue could be brought before a higher authority. Fortunately, Lochley didn’t give him the chance. 

“Sir,” she said, “as far as I know, the only thing the lieutenant is guilty of is following the orders of his superior officer.” 

“Supposedly,” Thompson said. 

“Be that as it may, your gut feeling isn’t enough to hold him. And frankly sir, I don’t think its worth the risk of losing the _Excalibur_ over. We need to be out there looking for a cure. Even if Captain Gideon was following his own agenda, he’s gone now. I’m inclined to grant Lieutenant Matheson’s resignation, unless you give me a compelling reason not to.” 

Pausing at length, Thompson then nodded to the guards to release him. Matheson took a step back. The combination of the stress and the physical proximity of the two men were testing the limits of his telepathic blocks. 

“Fine,” Thompson said. “Resignation granted, Mr. Matheson. You will accompany your new friends off of this ship immediately. As of this moment, you are trespassing.” 

“Actually, Anla’Shok Matheson will be a member of our contingent of observers,” Dulann said. 

Out of the corner of his eye he caught Lochley’s faint grin at the statement. How much of this had she known about before coming on board? Thompson, to his credit, reacted only with a clenched jaw, although the wave of anger coming from him was hard to miss, especially for a telepath. After a few calming breaths, the general gained enough composure to respond. 

“We’ll see about that.” He turned to Lochley. “Until then, he is to be treated as a visiting civilian. He will be limited to public areas, his access will be purged from the computer and his quarters will be searched for any classified information.” 

“Yes, sir,” Lochley said, snapping to attention. 

“I don’t like being played, captain,” Thompson said. “This is quite possibly the most important mission any captain has ever been given. Gideon was given a lot of leeway, you won’t be. Commander Griggs!” 

His attache’ marched forward. “Yes, sir.” 

“Effective immediately, you’re the _Excalibur_ ’s new first officer. Congratulations.” 

Griggs snapped off a sharp salute. “Thank you, sir.” 

Thompson turned back to Lochley. “Step out of line, even once, and I’ll hear about it. Now, let’s go to your office and discuss a few things.” 

Lochley bit her tongue and headed for the door on Thompson’s heels. 

They might have won this battle, but something told him life was about to get a whole lot more complicated.


	11. Chapter 11

  **Excalibur**

**Sol System**

Even before the searing beam reached her, Dureena prepared herself for the worst. She’d been struck by more than her fair share of energy beams during her life, but nothing as potent as the one Reneau was wielding. The simple reason for that being that traditionally anyone struck by that much energy didn’t survive. Yet, she seemed to be the exception to the rule. 

Either by instinct or at the sword’s command, she’d swung the weapon directly into the beam. Dureena had known the sword held great power from the moment she’d seen it, but this was a feature she’d never expected. Instead of being instantly disintegrated, the sword began projecting some kind of shield over itself which seemed to be absorbing the energy pummeling it.

_*You must hurry. I can only contain such power for seconds.*_  

The words sprang into her mind as they had on many previous occasions, somehow coming from the sword itself. Most of the time she questioned its commands, refusing to be used by anyone ever again. Even if that someone was a disembodied voice trapped in a sword. However given the circumstances, this time she was more than happy to obey. 

Sadly, she had no clue how. And more than a few seconds had already passed. She glanced at her attacker, desperate for any insight on how to save herself. But something wasn’t right. The ash and smoke drifting through the air between them wasn’t moving right. For some reason they seemed to be hovering rather than falling to the ground as expected. 

_*I have slowed your perceptions of time. The effort is most draining, as is projecting the shield. You must act now.*_  

*How?* she thought back to the voice. *I can’t move my body! You’ve frozen me too!* 

_*Time is unchanged, only your perception of it has altered. See the flaws in the beam. They are your way in. Use the skills I have taught you.*_  

Dureena focused on the energy stream, trying to see it as the voice did. While she was an expert when it came to using most weapons, she was no scientist or engineer. She understood the basics of how they functioned, but not enough to notice how this particular beam gave her a way in. 

_*Seek. The. Holes.*_  

The voice was faltering. Obviously the extra time it was buying her was running out. She stared into it again. Holes? Then she saw it. Or felt it. Or sensed it. It was hard to say exactly. It wasn’t one solid beam, but hundreds, maybe thousands of small ones connected together. She suspected it wasn’t something anyone could normally see, but somehow she could. 

The force of the blast grew almost imperceptibility around her hand. There was no time to second guess. Either this would work or it wouldn’t. From deep inside, she called upon the energies she’d only recently learned to harness. In a flash she sent them down her arms, through the sword and into the beam itself. At first nothing happen, but as she concentrated, she was able to find the gaps in the beam. Slipping her own power through them, she sent it along the length of it, right back into Reneau’s outstretched hand. 

Reneau’s eyes widened in shock as time snapped back to its natural flow. Dureena almost lost the connection in that disorienting moment. But the unnatural scream that burst from Reneau’s throat focused her. This woman had killed Gideon, and probably many others. Her suffering was the only thing that mattered. She felt Reneau disengage her own beam in an attempt to stop her. She failed. 

With slow, staggering steps, Dureena marched forward. The black armor protecting Reneau started to shift and pulsate, trying to protect its owner. Both here and on Mars she’d seen how effective the substance was…usually. But by coming up through the beam, Dureena had found the one weak spot in it and was now sending her own stream through its inner workings. The small hole it had formed to fire upon her was now its undoing. 

Reneau collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain as the armor collapsed back into her. Only when she saw and smelled charred skin did she at last stop her attack. 

“How?” Reneau gasped in a pained whisper. “The Skin is impenetrable.” 

“You’ll never know,” Dureena said. “But now you’re going to tell me everything about this…Skin, your assignment and the people you work for.” 

Reneau weakly nodded. “Yes. Anything.”

_*No! She is stalling to regain her strength. Kill her now.*_  

The voice echoed her own thoughts, but she couldn’t yield. Not yet. Gideon wouldn’t want that. He gave his life to stop these people and she owed it to his memory to follow through on his mission. If Galen ever managed to bring him back, she wanted him to know she didn’t waste this opportunity. 

“What are they called?” Dureena asked. 

“Can’t. The pain,” Reneau said. 

_*She will tell you nothing but lies. I will give you all the answers you require. Drive the sword through her chest. Do it now!*_  

“Talk through the pain, or feel more. Your choice.” Dureena felt her adrenaline peaking, calling her to action. She just had to hold out a little longer. 

“They’re called,” Reneau began, “they’re called…death.” 

With her last word she lifted her arm, but what she planned on doing would forever remain a mystery. Her senses already stimulated to their limits, Dureena swung the sword, lopping off the arm as it rose. 

_*Finish it!*_  

Spinning the sword with a flourish, Dureena slammed it back down, skewering Reneau to the deck. In a technique she’d mastered in the Pit, she began to twist it. Or she tried to. From her glazed eyes, Dureena knew that Reneau was finished, but the Skin still had some fight left in it. Inch by inch it crawled its way up the sword as Reneau’s dead body convulsed. Dureena braced her feet and pulled with all her strength, but it refused to come free. As it approached her hands she tried to let go, but found them fused to the hilt. 

_*Trust in me, my child. I swore you’d have the power to strike down the Drakh.  Behold the next step in your personal evolution!*_  

“I’m not your child!” Dureena screamed as the black Skin slithered its way over her own. In seconds it was covering her body. Then her own screams were muffled as it poured itself both over and into her mouth. She tried to gag as it forced its way down her throat, but she couldn’t even do that much. 

As her brain lost oxygen, she felt her body being crushed by the Skin’s unyielding pressure. Her body went limp, her last thoughts of the voice's betrayal. 

And then it was over. 

Dureena awoke on the floor, unsure if she’d been out for seconds or hours. As the memories of her last moments of consciousness returned, she leapt to her feet, searching herself for any remnants of the Skin. To her great relief, it seemed to be gone. 

Having seen it act on its own, she quickly scanned the room, trying to find a likely hiding place.

_*You will not find it. It is part of you now.*_  

“Why would you do that?” she asked aloud, needing to hear the sound of her own voice. “I didn’t want that Shadow abomination inside of me. They killed my people! Don’t you understand that?” 

_*Then what could be more fitting than to use the weapons of your enemy to strike them down? You were already a match for any ten Drakh. With this, you will finally be able to end them all.*_  

Dureena struggled to control the rage and violation she felt. She’d accepted the last power she’d been given because it had been forced on her. With it, she’d sworn she’d never be a victim again. And now, the very teacher who had helped her come to grips with it had betrayed her again. 

_*It pains me that you think so little of me. It is merely a tool, nothing more. Had I not acted when I did, it would have perished with its wielder. If you so wish, I will remove it.*_  

“Then do it!” she demanded. 

_*Before I do, perhaps you should use it one time, to remove the corpse. Its presence will lead to questions you do not wish to answer.*_  

As much as she hated to admit it, the voice had a valid point. This woman had taken on Galen and won. How would she explain to the others how she had beat her? Not to mention the destroyed safe and scorch marks from a battle she shouldn’t have survived. At least from their perspective. In time, she’d tell them what she had become, but not yet. Especially not this way. 

“One time,” she conceded. After a few moments of silence, she pressed it. “Care to tell me how?” 

_*It knows how. It wants to destroy. That is its purpose. Visualize the corpse’s destruction. Call on your own energies, then use the Skin to focus your will.*_  

For the hundredth time, she wished these new powers worked like traditional weapons. Point and shoot. Swing and slice. Thrust and stab. Those were instructions. At first the nature of the powers had frustrated her to no end. By this point, she’d gained some control. As Reneau could have attested before she’d made the fatal mistake of doubting it. 

Raising her hand, she aimed her palm at the body. Inside she felt the eerie sensation of something moving beneath her skin. He palm hardened and she felt the sudden need to strike out. Not willing to give control over to this thing any more than she would to that damned voice, she pushed the impulse down. Instead, she conjured the energies she’d already been learning to master, and sent them down her arm, just as she had when Reneau had attacked. 

This time, something new happened. Instead of a steady stream containing the power of either the Skins beam weapon or the energies she'd in response moments ago, a purple starburst shot forth, incinerating Reneau’s body in an instant. There were no ashes, no scorch marks, nothing. The body was simply gone. 

_*So, shall I now remove the power I so thoughtlessly forced upon you?”_  

Dureena stood, utterly silent, unable to take her eyes from the destruction she’d wrought.

 

* * * * * 

Matheson watched from a discreet distance as Griggs ordered the troops that had been guarding him to report to his quarters. He probably could have insisted on being there to supervise, but he didn’t feel like pushing his luck. The ship’s new first officer hadn’t done much to hide his disdain for his predecessor. And after how things had gone down with the man’s mentor, he really couldn’t blame him. 

Mrs. Jones had reboarded their shuttle, apparently content to wait things out there now that her services were no longer needed. Which was fine by him. He’d spent enough time with telepaths called Jones to last a lifetime. And now, assuming Thompson didn’t overturn this at some point, he may never see one again. 

Unless the Minbari had an equivalent program. He still had no clue what he’d just agreed to. Now that the immediate crisis seemed to be past, that reality dominated his thoughts. The Rangers had been a hot topic during his academy days. Most of his fellow cadets believed they were a Minbari cult trying to undermine EarthForce. Of course, these were the same cadets who thought letting telepaths into the military was the beginning of the end. 

“Having second thoughts?” Dulann asked, coming up beside him. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful,” he said. “But I have a lot of questions. The main one, is how did this Delenn know I was in trouble in the first place? I mean, I didn’t even know what they were planning until five minutes before you got here.” 

Dulann leaned in and whispered. “I may have exaggerated a few small points.” 

“Tell me you’re kidding,” he said. 

Dulann gave a small shrug. “Given that this renegade faction within your government are likely remnants of President Clark’s regime, I was given a wide latitude.” 

Matheson pointed at the small crystal. “But you brought that with you. You must have suspected you’d need it.” 

“My Shok-na would call it ‘playing a hunch’,” Dulann said. “I choose to see it as learning from history.” 

“You mean since Clark’s people used the Psi Corps to solidify their power base, you figured these people might try the same thing,” Matheson guessed. 

“That would be the most pertinent example,” Dulann agreed. “Though it is only one of many. From the moment human telepaths were first discovered by the general population, their rights have been secondary to the rights of others. From the earliest days of forced registration through the new laws now being enforced, that fact has remained. That they chose to continue the pattern in this instance was not surprising.” 

Matheson’s first impulse was to defend his race from such a harsh assessment. But as he tried to formulate a rebuttal, he realized how empty the justifications sounded. How could he defend laws he’d only moments ago argued against as being unjust? Maybe Dulann was right. Maybe the Bureau was just a new way for everyone to feel good about treating telepaths as second class citizens. 

It was a hard pill to swallow, especially for him. After the Psi Corps, the new laws had seemed to be a godsend, the answer to all of his prayers. By comparison they were obviously better, but was that enough? Looking at the Minbari in front of him, he suddenly realized how little he knew about how they dealt with their telepaths. Or the Centauri, Brakiri, Abbai…really any of the other races for that matter. 

The Corps had always taught that the other races left their telepaths vulnerable to prejudice and abuse. And by encouraging them to breed with mundanes instead of other telepaths they were attempting to eventually destroy the species by weakening each generation until they were gone. Like much of the indoctrination he’d been raised with, Matheson had never thought to question this. Perhaps it was time to change that. 

“So do I now fall under Minbari telepath laws or do the Rangers have their own?” he asked, genuinely curious. 

“Your skills are not something to be regulated, they are a part of who you are,” Dulann explained, albeit a little to cryptically for Matheson’s taste. “Follow the code of the Anla’Shok and they will serve both yourself and others well. The only punishment you risk is in failing to live up to the code all Rangers have sworn to uphold.” 

“I don’t understand,” he admitted after a brief pause. “Is there a Ranger rule book that might spell it out a little more clearly?” 

“If you choose to proceed, you will learn much in the training, although only through experience will you gain the clarity you seek.” 

“What do you mean, ‘if I proceed’?” Matheson asked. “The way I see it, it’s not like I have much choice.” 

Dulann’s normally cheerful demeanor fell away at that statement. “To be Anla’Shok is a calling of the heart. It is not something you do when you are out of options, it is the only road which you can see yourself traveling. Your intentions must be pure and selfless.” 

Matheson felt his cheeks go flush. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I really do appreciate what you did for me. But I always thought EarthForce was my true calling. After the Psi Corps disbanded, it was the only path I even considered.” 

“And why did you believe EarthForce was where you were destined to be?” 

Honestly, it was a question he didn’t want to answer. His dream had just gone down in flames and dwelling on all of the things he’d lost was the last thing he wanted right now. “I guess the main reason was I wanted to serve Earth,” he hedged. 

“This was something you could have done within the Psi Corps. Your abilities would have given you many opportunities to serve your government,” asserted Dulann. 

“Not in the way I wanted.” He realized Dulann wasn’t going to let him off with an easy answer. And as uncomfortable as the topic was, he owed him that much. “I wanted to make a difference, not because of what I am, but because of who I am.” 

“You didn’t wish to be defined by your telepathy,” Dulann said. 

Matheson nodded. “That’s it exactly. In EarthForce I started out just like everyone else and my advancement was based on merit, not on something I just happened to be born with. In the Corps, your psi rating was who you were. Being born a P6, what I could do in life was already laid out for me. There was only so far I could go.” 

“So you desired power,” Dulann said. 

“No!” he snapped defensively. “I just wanted to be judged by my abilities, not my rating.” 

“You could have done that in any number of professions. Why was EarthForce the calling of your heart?” 

“It also let me see the galaxy,” Matheson said, getting frustrated. “I wanted to see other worlds, meet other races. To explore the unknown.” 

“Again,” Dulann said, “there are many professions that meet those criteria. And as only a small fraction of EarthForce is designated for exploration, it is far from the best place to achieve those goals.” 

Unwanted memories of the final days of the Telepath Crisis filled his thoughts. Friends and acquaintances stumbling, burns and gashes covering their faces and bodies. The annex exploding beneath him, taking the lives of his fellow telepaths, some monsters, some innocents. 

“I wanted to protect people,” he confessed at last. “Before the bloodshed, I wanted those other things. I still do. And maybe part of me wanted that life because out of all the things telepaths weren’t allowed to do, that was the biggest. But after I watched all those people fighting and dying, more than anything I wanted to stop it from ever happening again.” 

“You wish to protect those who cannot protect themselves. To prevent those seeking power from exploiting the weak and innocent. To risk your own life to save others in service to a virtuous cause. And to serve side by side with those who will do no less.” 

“Yes,” Matheson whispered, feeling deflated. 

“That is what it means to be Anla’Shok,” Dulann said. 

Matheson shook his head. “It’s not the same.” 

“No, it is not,” Dulann replied. “But you have not described EarthForce. You have described what you wish it could be. EarthForce exists to protect the interests of humanity, often at the expense of those ideals. As do the military forces of every world within the Alliance as well as outside its borders.” 

“How are the Rangers any different?” 

“We serve no single world,” Dulann said. “We serve the call of peace. We do not fight for territory, wealth or power. We fight so that all people, regardless of race, can live according to their own beliefs. We serve the future.” 

“Sounds to good to be true,” Matheson said. 

“No, it sounds like the calling of your heart,” Dulann said, his slight grin returning. “Entil’Zha Delenn, did not bestow the title of Anla’Shok upon you only due to some ancient tradition as General Thompson so adamantly believes. She studied your words and deeds, which led her to the truth. You were already Anla’Shok in spirit, if not yet in name.” 

Matheson cocked an eyebrow. “I find it hard to believe that every member of the _Excalibur_ ’s command crew just happened to be a Ranger in spirit.” 

“Of course not,” Dulann said in a tone of mock shock. 

“But you told the general…” 

“The truth,” Dulann said. “If the general were to inspect the agreements signed by yourself, your captain, your healer and several others, he would find you are, as I stated, all honorary Anla’Shok.” 

“And the others?” he asked. 

“Oh, well they agreed to be interim Anla’Shok while assigned to the _Excalibur_.” 

“That’s a pretty fine line,” Matheson said. 

Dulann shrugged. “Not at all. During the last Shadow War, there were not enough of us to crew the whitestars. Members of the religious caste served in their stead. It became an accepted practice, so long as these interim crews held no true station within the Anla’Shok.” 

Matheson laughed. “Creative approach. Did this Delenn come up with it? What did you call her?” 

“Entil’Zha,” Dulann said. “Yes, she is most wise. Her approach soothed the egos of the warrior caste and prevented the war. For a time.” 

He took a deep breath. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. At the very least, he vowed not to pass judgment until he learned a little more. For the past few years most of the people he knew thought the Rangers were too close to being a cult. Except Matt. He always said the Rangers were honorable, in their own way. 

“I’m afraid I must take my leave of you now,” Dulann said, interrupting his train of thought. 

“Wait,” Matheson said. “I thought you were staying on board as an observer.” 

“No, I served my purpose in coming here. I am needed back on the _Liandra_.” 

Matheson suddenly felt untethered again. “I don’t mean to push, you’ve already done more for me than I could have imagined when this started. But isn’t there any chance you could stay for even a few days? You understand what being a Ranger is all about. More than that, you know what its like to be a telepath in the Rangers. I could really use that right now.” 

“I am flattered by your faith in me,” Dulann said, then gave a playful grin. “However my Shok-na would be lost without my guidance as well.” 

“I don’t even know what a shakna is,” Matheson said. 

“You will learn,” Dulann assured him. He gestured toward the other Ranger. “For the time being, Tafeek will be your primary instructor.” 

“Him?” Matheson asked, immediately regretting the question. But after handing the official orders to Thompson, the Minbari had more or less blended into the background. His empty stare had remained locked on the bulkhead. Quite frankly, he didn’t look like he was up to standing, let alone teaching a completely clueless new recruit. 

“Tafeek has lost much over the last year,” Dulann said, his voice barely a whisper. “More than most could bare. I will tell you in confidence, he believes those responsible are the same forces who struck down your captain.” 

Matheson’s jaw dropped open. “I thought we were the only ones who knew about them.” 

“Until your encounters, we knew little of this group,” Dulann said. “Only that a cadre of humans were using shadow tech to gain access to other technologies they do not understand. With other threats demanding our attention, we have not been able to seek out anything more. It is Tafeek’s hope that by coming here he may find the answers he seeks.” 

“No offense, Dulann, but the last thing we need right now is someone using us to get revenge.” 

Dulann looked appalled. “Despite all he has endured, Tafeek is a Ranger. He is also a friend. His drive will serve you, not endanger you. I give you my word.” 

“Alright,” Matheson slowly replied. “Again, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just worried about…everything.” 

“No offense was taken,” Dulann said. He put his hands together in front of him and bowed. “I wish you well, Anla’Shok Matheson.” 

He tried to copy the gesture, but ended up settling for a simple bow of his own. “Thank you, Dulann. For everything.” 

“Until we meet again.” 

With that he turned and went back to the shuttle, stopping beside Tafeek. When they started to say their own goodbyes, Matheson turned, not wanting to intrude. Half way through the turn he jumped, startled by the woman standing directly behind him. 

“What was that all about,” Dureena asked. 

“Its…” He stopped taken aback by her appearance. She had bruises across her face and arms, her hair was in disarray and her clothes were torn in more than a few places. “What happened to you?” 

Dureena shrugged nonchalantly. “Just taking out some aggression.” 

“Please tell me it wasn’t on one of General Thompson’s people,” Matheson said, fearing the worst. 

“Nothing like that,” she said. “With what happened to Gideon, I needed to vent some frustration. My quarters are a little worse for wear, but your EarthForce people are fine.” 

“Did it work?” he asked. “Getting out the frustrations.” 

“Surprisingly well,” she replied. “But you didn’t answer my question.” 

He followed her gaze back to the two Minbari, still deep in conversation. “That’s a very long story.” 

“I could use a story about now,” she said. “And a drink.” 

Normally he avoided alcohol, but after today, it sounded fabulous. “My quarters are out, and I’m assuming you’d rather not go to yours.” 

She looked at him like he’d asked the world’s stupidest question. 

“How about the lounge?” he asked. 

“As long as you’re buying,” Dureena said. 

He wondered if the Rangers actually got paid anything. Well, he still had a few credits saved up for a rainy day. Of course, they were in his quarters… “Actually, my funds aren’t really accessible right now. I might have to owe you.” 

She arched her eyebrows. “I didn’t know EarthForce fined its people for insubordination.” 

Matheson grinned…and realized despite everything, he could still find these simple moments of happiness. With all of the changes being forced on him, it was nice some things stayed the same. Dureena would always be Dureena. 

“Like I said, it's a long story.” They started off the flight deck side by side. “It’s funny, I’m usually the one missing all the fun, not you.” 

She gave a dismissive shrug. “There’s always next time.”


	12. Chapter 12

**January 7th, 2268**

**Excalibur**

**En Route to the Rim**  

As Elizabeth Lochley looked into the faces of everyone assembled in the conference room, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d done the right thing coming here. Normally she wasn’t one to second guess a decision. It was a waste of time that was better used on fixing the next problem rather than dwelling on the last one. But seeing the uncertainty in the eyes of her new crew was making it a harder than usual motto to live by. 

_Damn it, John! Why couldn’t you have asked someone else to do this?_  

When he’d asked her to take command of B5 all those years ago, the exact same thought had gone through her mind every day for weeks. But he’d laid out a persuasive argument, appealing to her sense of duty, and she’d caved. This time was different. Yes, he once again given a great speech, but this time he’d appealed to her moral code instead. This Cabal, as the others were calling it, couldn’t be allowed to shoot down Mathew Gideon in cold blood, then steal his ship before his body was even cold. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. If even half of what he’d told her about them was true, they were the wrong hands to place the fate of ten billion people into. 

And while she still believed every reason he’d given, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d lost a piece of who she was in the bargain. During the Civil War, even when things were at their worst, her sense of duty had pulled her through. The chain of command was there for a reason. Without it, EarthForce would fall. She’d always accepted that truth without question. It was at the core of who she was. 

So why the hell was she here now? 

Was it her on again, off again relationship with Matt? If it had been a different captain shot down would she be here now? Or maybe it was her time on Babylon 5 that had changed her. After all, its first commander had left the service to lead the Rangers and its second had broken away to eventually found a new nation. Had living there so changed who she was that her entire belief system had been turned on its head? 

Lochley shoved the thoughts back down again. This was neither the time or the place for a crisis of conscience. No matter the reason, she was here now. An entire planet was counting on her to do the impossible and bring home a cure. And the crew needed her to be someone worthy of that mission, whether she was still that person in reality or not. 

The staff she’d called to this impromptu meeting sat in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the last person to arrive. Even those who had served together for the past year weren’t so much as whispering among themselves. It was a microcosm of the entire ship at the moment. It was as if someone was pumping tension into the air right along with the O2. 

General Thompson had left three days earlier, but the effects of his visit were still echoing through the corridors. He was the kind of leader she’d always hated, the kind whose ego was more important than the people under his command. The Interstellar Alliance had undermined his authority by assigning her as captain and rescuing Matheson from his interrogation. Rather than accept the loss gracefully, he’d opted to assert his authority in every way he could. 

Assigning Dawson Griggs as first officer had been his first vindictive act. The commander had served under Thompson since he’d graduated from the academy, mostly as the general’s personal attache. On paper he looked like an exemplary officer, his service record full of commendations…although they were all from Thompson. But the general had spent the majority of his career in black ops, meaning that Griggs had essentially zero experience on a starship. From what she could see, he didn’t even have any real leadership experience other than passing on Thompson’s orders to others. His only reason for being here was his complete loyalty to the man. She had little doubt that her every word and deed would be reported back, in detail. 

If that had been the end of it, she could have accepted the posting as a regrettable consequence of the way things had gone down. But he hadn’t stopped there. Over the past few days a steady stream of shuttles had been transferring personnel on and off the _Excalibur_. The IPX and medical staffs had been left pretty much intact, but over half of those in the military had been reassigned in the wake of her own transfer. 

Lochley had managed to fight for a few of them, but the sad truth was most were willing to be quietly shuffled away. ISN was doing a fine job making Gideon out to be a reckless commander, if not an outright traitor. Add to that their confusion over going to Mars, hiding from their own government and their former first officer resigning in disgrace and she could even understand their position. If she hadn’t been filled in on the whole story, she’d probably have felt the same way. 

Which left her pondering Thompson’s true allegiance. If he was a member of the Cabal, every new crew member he assigned might share those loyalties. Best case scenario, he was simply an ego driven general on a power trip who had inadvertently given the Cabal a way to assign a few spies on board under both their noses. Neither option was particularly pleasant to think about. 

“Sorry I’m late,” came a voice from behind her. 

Max Eilerson strode into the room, his arms overloaded with files and data crystals. He dropped them unceremoniously onto the conference table between Dr. Chambers and Lieutenant Singleton before claiming his chair. 

“I know you said you wanted our three best bets for our next location,” he began, “but I figured why waste such a perfect opportunity?” 

Lochley sighed. “And what opportunity is that, Mr. Eilerson?” 

He excitedly began sliding folders across the table to everyone. “Not to speak ill of our former commander, but he dismissed several worlds that in my opinion, are ripe for excavation.” 

“Don’t you mean ripe for profit?” Dureena asked as Chambers rolled her eyes. 

“The two are not mutually exclusive,” Eilerson said. “I say, if we can bring back advanced technologies while searching for the cure, everyone wins.” 

Griggs snatched up a folder. “That sounds reasonable. What kind of technologies do you have in mind?” 

Lochley held up her hands. “Hold on. I’m guessing if Captain Gideon passed on these already, it was because they looked better for IPX’s bottom line then they did to our mission.” She flipped open a file at random. “Why did he say no to this one?” 

Eilerson glanced at it for a few seconds before answering. “The scouting team found texts that spoke of a storehouse of great treasures that gave their leaders the powers of gods.” 

“In other words, probably weapons, not medicines,” Lochley said. 

“Who knows,” Eilserson said. “Maybe the reason their leaders were considered god-like was because they could cure any disease. We won’t know until we investigate.” 

“I think the implications are clear enough,” Matheson said. 

Unlike the others, he’d chosen to stand beside the table, leaving the available seats for the ‘official’ crew. He’d initially declined her invitation to join this briefing given his new standing in the crew. Lochley had insisted though, convincing him that as one of their new liaisons to the IA, he had every right to be there. Still, he’d looked uncomfortable since he’d arrived, now dressed in his new Ranger uniform. Having Commander Griggs constantly shoot him dirty looks hadn’t done anything to lessen his discomfort either. 

“That’s not for you to decide, _Mr._ Matheson,” sneered Griggs, stressing his lack of rank. 

“Actually,” Lochley said, “it’s a valid point. And no decisions are being made here. It’s an open discussion, in which everyone is free to participate.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, properly chastised. 

Lochley decided to switch tactics. “Alright, before we go on, I need to say something.” 

Every head in the room turned to face her. 

“If someone would have told me a week ago that I’d be sitting here as your new captain, I’d have had them hauled down to Medlab for a psych eval,” she began. “Looking around this table…scratch that, looking around this whole ship, I’ve come to realize that’s something we all have in common. Newcomers like Commander Griggs and myself now make up a full third of the crew. We’ve been unexpectedly thrust into of a mission vital to billions of lives. Unlike other commands, we won’t be given time to adapt to our new situation, we have to hit the ground running. Lives literally depend on it.” 

“And the existing crew,” she continued, looking to each of them in kind, “have had their very foundation ripped out from under them. You’ve lost a man you all respected and trusted Not only that, you also have to listen to others question him…and by extension, yourselves. In the middle of all of this, you now have to not only break in dozens of new crewmates, but a new captain and first officer as well.” 

At the mention of the first officer position, she noticed both Matheson and Griggs bristle. Hopefully it was something they’d come to terms with sooner rather than later, but for now all she could hope for was that they’d treat each other respectfully. 

“No matter what you may have heard, I’m not here to try and redeem the _Excalibur_ or her crew. They don’t need redemption. Any lingering questions about Captain Gideon’s motives can be addressed by his superiors if and when he returns. As far as I’m concerned, this crew has done an exemplary job. That’s a tradition I intend to keep alive for as long as I’m here. So spread the word among your departments. If I hear that any of the crew, new or old, are fighting over questions of loyalty, they’ll have to personally answer to me.” 

To her right Griggs kept a straight face, but he couldn’t stop it from turning a few shades darker red. No doubt every word she’d said would be reported back to Thompson by the end of the day. Screw him. She was here to do a job and wasn’t going to have her hands tied by anyone, let alone her own first officer. 

“We’re all here for one reason and one reason only. During the last week while we had to deal with this personnel shuffling, nearly 1,400 people lost their lives to the newest mutation of the Drakh plague. By the end of this meeting, we’re going to be en route to a new world, where we’ll hopefully find a cure, or at least something that could help the people of Earth.” 

She looked pointedly to Eilerson. “Something that could _medically_ help the people of Earth. I don’t care if we find a power source the size of a link that can run a whole planet. I won’t waste a single hour looking on something that doesn’t directly aid us in our mission.” 

Eilerson opened his mouth, presumably to argue his point, but her steely stare shut him down before a single syllable left his lips. 

“Everyone on this ship needs to come together to make that happen. Personally, I have a lot to catch up on and I expect each of you, new and old, to make your opinions known. At the appropriate times and places of course. In turn, I’m hoping my experience working with all the other governments on Babylon 5 will contribute to you and your departments.” 

“Alright, I think we’ve heard enough from me,” she said, earning a few tepid smiles from the others. “First off, our new Ranger observers have brought a few interesting prospects to the table. While they fill the rest of us in, Mr. Eilerson, it should give you time to reorganize your thoughts.” 

Eilerson pulled his folders back toward himself as Tafeek inserted a data crystal and began talking about an ancient colony the _Liandra_ had heard about a short time ago. With no small relief, she saw her crew relax into the briefing as Tafeek spoke. Questions were fired off and a few small jokes were even made to lighten the mood. It would take time for the tensions to fade away, but this was a good start. 

Now all she had to worry about was the Cabal trying to undermine her, the new crew members turning on her, the Drakh trying to stop them…oh, and the continued existence of an entire planet relying on her making the right calls for its continued survivial. No pressure. 

Hopefully Matt would be back to deal with this before too long. Until then, she knew that Gideon had brought together the right people on the right ship at the right time. If she trusted in them and earned their trust in return, they might just be able to pull off a miracle. 

Because if they were all willing to believe a techno-mage could bring Matt back from the dead, anything was possible.

 

* * * * *

 

**January 8th, 2268**

**Streib System**  

Galen smoothly maneuvered his ship past the moon’s magnetic pole as the trio of Streib cruisers passed within sensor range. As far a he knew, none of the current races could penetrate techno-mage stealth technology, but better safe than sorry. On the other hand, the Streib had built their entire culture around collecting knowledge, so if anyone could, it would probably be them. 

According to his own highly advanced sensors, their patrol route would take them out of range in six minutes. At that point, he could continue on to their homeworld. Then he would finally see if the stories surrounding them were more fact then legend. 

Only scattered reports had survived over the centuries hinting at their true agenda. Every few decades they’d venture out from the relative safety of this system to abduct a handful of members of each of the dominant races. These specimen would then be experimented upon, even pitted against one another in forced combat. After they’d completed their tests, they would then return home, only for the cycle to continue with the rising of the next generation of Streib. 

The youngest races among their victims believed they were collecting data for an all out invasion. The older races knew better. In over a thousand years, the pattern had never changed. They never grew any bolder or showed any other signs of aggression. 

Personally, Galen believed they were merely acting as servants for the Shadows. He had no direct evidence of this, besides them being on Shadow held worlds during the last war. But it made sense. The Shadows tended to hibernate for the long centuries between conflicts, leaving them oblivious to the changing shape of politics in the galaxy. Upon waking they would need up to date intelligence to properly carry out their agenda. The Drakh were mere foot soldiers and the Wurt little more than technological scavengers. They would need someone to fill them in on the biologies of all their new pawns. 

Enter the Streib. 

Whether he was correct or not, the fact that they’d spent centuries stockpiling medical data made them a logical first stop. Who knows, maybe he’d even find something to help cure the Drakh plague. That was a bit too optimistic for his current state of mind though. Right now he’d settle for a way to reanimate a decomposing human body. 

As always, he pushed the thought of Mathew’s dead body, tucked safely in the hold beneath him, to the back of his mind. Dwelling too much on that unpleasant reality wouldn’t help anything. He preferred to think of Mathew as a trapped soul waiting to be reunited with the flesh. His Order had the collected cautionary tales of two dozen races warning against raising the dead. Freeing a trapped soul wasn’t quite so daunting. 

His Order. Galen couldn’t stop from laughing aloud at the thought. As of two hours ago, he had no Order. Although he had hoped against all odds that the Circle would vote differently, his last conversation with Dirk had gone precisely as he had predicted. 

Dirk had gone on at some length, trying to justify the decisions they’d made in fear. But the gist of it was, we need you to come home to train us in the skills you’ve learned so we might one day defend ourselves from this new threat. The translation being, we need you back here so you stop drawing attention to us and hopefully somebody else will deal with the problem. 

After Galen’s refusal to respond to repeated requests for electron incantations became obvious, Dirk had been sent a set of coordinates and instructions to be there within 48 hours. Failure to do so would seal his fate, which technically meant he’d be hunted down and the tech flayed from his body. Both sides knew it was an empty threat, but tradition demanded they make it. 

If the Circle refused to come out of hiding to face a very real threat like the Cabal, they certainly weren’t going to do so to carry out the sentence. Without a guide, he had no way back to the hiding place and therefore couldn’t expose them to anyone else. Plus, with his abilities it would take a small army of them to follow through on the threat. 

He’d considered leaving a scathing condemnation of their cowardice, but in the end decided it would accomplish nothing. Instead, he’d opted to keep it short and sweet. 

_Sedit qui timuit ne non succederet._  

The infamous statement would hopefully shake a few of them out of their complacency. Their fear of failure was their greatest weakness and until they faced it head on their Order would continue to whither and die. Should they continue to sit idly by and do nothing, they deserved the fate they brought upon themselves. 

In the short term at least, being an outcast changed very little for him. In many ways it even made his life a little simpler. No more spying on the people he cared about. No more trying to walk the theoretical fine line between his own beliefs and the Circles that was in reality a gaping chasm. He would do only as his conscience demanded, a lesson his allies on board the _Excalibur_ had recently learned for themselves. 

In an encrypted communication with Matheson, he’d shared a few likely places better suited to a large scale search by the _Excalibur_. They would never be able to search the extensive medical archives hidden here, at least not without a costly fight. This was a task much more suited to his skill set then theirs. 

Matheson had responded in kind, filling him in on General Thompson’s power play which among other things had cost the telepath everything he’d ever dreamed of. It was a crisis which Galen could now relate to on a very personal level. Perhaps the Circle was right to condemn him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t relate to any of his brothers and sisters in hiding so well. He didn’t belong in an orderly society, he belonged with his fellow outcasts. 

Not that he would see them any time soon. It would likely be months if not years before he made any progress on the herculean task he’d undertaken. Even then, ISN had done nearly as good a job painting Gideon as a traitor as they had in vilifying Galen. It was rather doubtful the two of them could just stroll back onto the _Excalibur_ as if nothing had happened. There was a distinct possibility that this forced separation was a permanent thing. 

Even without consulting the Box, he knew what Mathew would say. Giving up was not an option. The dual threats of the Cabal and the Drakh plague were far more important than their happiness or even their lives. The selfless sentiment would then likely be followed up by some quip about beating the odds. At his core he was a rogue and a gambler, and what they were attempting were the biggest gambles in history. 

The computer finally signaled the Streib ships had moved out of range. He settled back in his chair, putting thoughts of the future on hold. For now, he must focus only on the task at hand. 

The future would attend to itself.

 

* * * * * 

The saga of Crusade: Legacy of the Shadows will continue soon!


End file.
